Hush Little Baby
by chinchin.unicorn
Summary: When her parents die, Bella goes to live with her godfather. She soon realizes that Daddy Edward isn't who she thinks he is.
1. Chapter 1

**Here we go again!**

* * *

Mr. Black's crooked nose is all shiny. So is his forehead. It's not all that hot in here, but he's gleaming with perspiration. Even little wet spots are forming near his pits of his button-up shirt. It's gross and awful to look at, but I don't look away. I can't look away.

"Are you listening to me, Isabella?"

I nod my head. I think my ears stopped working after, "I have something important to tell you."

He keeps rambling on. I see his lips moving. Two dark pink thin lines going up and down, covering slightly yellowed cracked teeth. A bead of sweat collects in the tiny valley above those two pink lines. Mr. Cameron called it the philtrum in AP Biology today. I'll probably forget it by the time I leave this office.

No. Scratch that. Forgotten.

"Your godfather has been contacted."

Show me the money! Is that how the quote goes? No wait…wrong movie. Doesn't matter. I don't even think I've seen either one of them. Wrong generation or what not. Dad keeps sayings we'll sit down together and watch it one day. I don't know how long ago that was, but too long to have kept track.

"Isabella?"

"Yeah?"

It's tradition you see. Every Friday, he'll say, "Let's watch a movie." And I'll say, "Sure." We never do end up watching movies. Friends. Work. Parties. Boyfriend. Mom. Dates. Something has always gotten in the way.

"I'm so sorry."


	2. Chapter 2

**For those of you wondering, _Kinked_ is not yet complete. We're just taking a tiny break.**

* * *

It's raining. So cliché.

I could go on about how gray the day is. About how the glistening droplets match my overwhelming mood. That the skies are crying for me when my eyes have seemingly stopped working. But that would even be more cliché despite it being all true.

The ground is soft and muddy. My shoes, once glossy and pristine, are now covered in streaks of the wet dirt. Like shit. I have shit on my shoes. And even that thought is better than the one in front of me.

From shit on my shoes to the red umbrella across the way. Red. Well, that's a stupid choice, and I'm not the only one who thinks so. Aunt Sue is glaring at it from beneath her black one. She's all black. Black up hairdo. Black lacy dress. Black peep toe heels. She's probably regretting that stupid choice. I bet she has shit all up in her toes right now.

"Best friend. Best man. The best of the best. You'll be missed."

Those eyes. They're the only color in this endless sea of gray. So green. So comforting. How I've admired them for so long. Now…they're all I have left in this world.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

Your hand is so soft but strong when you lay it on my back. Your fingers stretch across that it almost feels like you can span my entire waist just like that. I know that's not true. I love chocolate too much to be that skinny.

"Let's go home."


	3. Chapter 3

**Are _you_ ready?**

* * *

The house seems so empty that when you start packing up everything I don't really care. Take their bed. Take Dad's favorite couch. Take Mom's coveted china cabinet. Take it all. It means nothing without them.

"I'm going to put it into storage," you say with a hand on my shoulder. "Just until you need it."

"Ok." I nod my head, but I don't really care. Burn it all. The memories are too hard.

In fact, let's burn this house down. You say one day I can come back. Live here. Because it's mine now. I don't want it. Where's the laughter? The tears? The fights? Echoing down the hallway like ghosts? Not even. This place is empty.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

You have tears in your eyes and that green, that beautiful, gorgeous green, seems to glow so brightly. If tears weren't so sad, I would tell you to have tears in your eyes all the time. Lucky you. Tears on me just streaks my mascara and makes my eyes red. Maybe that's why I haven't cried yet. My eyes are as empty of tears as this house is as empty of people.

"Are you ready?"


	4. Chapter 4

**I suppose I should insert a warning here. Sexual fetishes will be abound.**

* * *

The walls are white and there's no furniture besides the bed, and yet it seems the exact opposite of empty. My new home. Here with you. You're standing in the doorway, your body casting a shadow as tall as the width of the room, one hand in your pocket as you watch me sit on the bed with a small bounce.

"I hope it's okay," you say with a quick glance around at all the white walls. "We can decorate it however you want."

I lift my hand, staring down at my knees. "No, it's okay. This is fine."

There's a brief silence before you walk over and take a seat next to me. You breathe a small sigh before shifting. Your arm is thick and heavy and warm on my shoulders. "We can get through this together, Bella."

I close my eyes, willing the tears to come. I want to cry. I need to cry. But they don't, hidden somewhere unknown. So I lean my head on you instead.

"Yeah…" I say.

You clear your throat. "You're eighteen, and I have no power over your actions, but I hope you'll stay here. With me."

My eyes are halfway closed, but then open in a slight panic. I look up at you. Your gorgeous greens look so worried. "Where else would I go?"

You let out a small laugh, but there's no humor behind it. "I can think of plenty." I shake my head, but you shush me. "Things are going to be rough, and I just want you to know I'll be there for you."

I lean closer into your body and you take the hint and wrap your arms around me. I like this. The outside world just seems to disappear when I'm within your arms. "I don't want to be anywhere else but here."

You tilt your head and I can feel your gorgeous greens deliberating. I don't blame you. How can you trust the words of a girl who didn't even cry at her own parent's funeral? But then you smile. I can feel it against my hair when you press your lips at the crown of my head. And that smile…it turns into a kiss. Just a small little peck followed by, "I'm glad because I don't want you anywhere but here too. I need you, Bella, just as much as you need me."


	5. Chapter 5

**Hm. My mind keeps going back and forth with this story.**

* * *

I'm not sure how much time has passed. Enough for me to grow so hungry that I can't ignore my growling tummy. It's been a few days at least. I remember you leaving plates near the bed, but I just didn't feel like eating then. I'm sorry for that. It's nothing against your cooking.

"Good morning," you say when I enter the kitchen. I fiddle around on my toes for a bit. I've been here so many times over the years that I don't know why I suddenly feel so awkward.

"Come on. Have a seat." You smile at me. You're wearing your reading glasses and they only amplify your gorgeous greens. I like it when you wear them. "I'll pour you a bowl of cereal."

Cheerios and milk make their way in front of me. I never really liked them, always thinking them too bland, but you? You could eat them all day. In fact, I've spent many days over here where you have.

"Thanks," I say. I look up at you through my eyelashes and smile…only a small one.

"I know you don't like them. We'll get some stuff for you later on."

I shake my head. "No. This is perfect."

You pour yourself a bowl and sit down next to me. We eat in silence, only the crunch, crunch of the small whole grain oats disturb the air, but then you tap my hand with your spoon, leaving behind droplets of milk. I glare at you and lick it off. You smile. This big cheerio filled smile.

"Your turn," you say.

"What?"

"Smile for me."

I only have to think about it for a second because I want to make you happy. I've always wanted to make you happy. My little girl crush on you was revealed so many years ago. It's nothing new now. So I smile. A real big one, and for the second or two that smile graces my lips, it feels like all is right in the world.

You and me here. Together.


	6. Chapter 6

**Tomorrow baby!**

* * *

"Do you want to go back to school?" It seems like ages ago since I last thought of anything like that, and yet it really wasn't.

I shrug my shoulders. "I guess I should."

Your big warm arm wraps around me again. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. When you're ready you can go back."

I lean my head on you and you rest your chin on my hair, bringing your other arm to wrap around the front of me. I think you know I love this. You've been bringing me into this little bubble so often lately.

"Thanks, but maybe I should. Get back into routine, you know?"

You laugh. I can feel your whole body shaking with it. "You sounded like your dad just then."

Silence. Who knew something invisible could be so thick and powerful, knocking you breathless, holding you hostage. And then you break it with, "I'm sorry."

That first deep breath is almost painful, but your arms make it feel all better again, so I shake my head. "Don't be. It'll hurt at first, right? But it'll get better. I don't want to forget them."

Your arms tighten around me, squeezing me so good that the emotions come bubbling right out. Sob-less tears. That's all I'm capable of these days, but I think you understand. You haven't once asked me about it.

"You're right. We should get into a routine. Continue our lives. Theirs may have been lost but that doesn't mean we should put ours on hold."

I burrow deep, deep enough to where I can wrap my arms around you. "Tomorrow. We'll start tomorrow."


	7. Chapter 7

**Time to start.**

* * *

Early morning pink peeks through the sheer curtains. The sun is rising, and I'm awake to witness it. Sort of. Not a bone in my body is willing to rise and watch it. All I see is the brightening of my room. That's good enough really.

Its been so long since I've seen any of them. Some called me during my absence, but most didn't know what to say. At our age, it's rare to meet someone who has experienced death of a close family member. I was them just a few short weeks ago. Now I'm the different one.

"Things won't ever be the same," you said to me last night. "Everything is different now. We just have to adjust."

The higher the sun gets, the faster my heart beats. I'm nervous. I haven't been this nervous since freshman year. I don't mind attention, but it's the looks I'm scared of. The tiptoeing I'm sure is bound to happen. The tense silences. The what-the-hell-do-we-do-with-her stances.

The door creaks open, and if I hadn't already been awake, I wouldn't have heard it. My eyes meet your gorgeous greens. You send me one of those all-teeth smiles. "Good morning. It's time to wake up."

I send one of my tentative ones back. "All right."

"I have breakfast waiting for you. Be in the kitchen in five."

You wait for me to agree before closing my door and disappearing behind it. Your footsteps echo down the hallway before silence once again permeates the air. My once-white-now-pink walls are slowly turning yellow, so I crawl out of bed. Literally. First my hands and then my knees, laying my cheek on the cool wood floor, hoping for it to calm my rising nerves before being sorely disapointed, and then pulling myself to my feet.

The door swing opens. Perhaps faster than I would have liked. I only have five minutes after all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Ali OMalley Cat lights up my world with her words on Twitter.**

* * *

You've made a feast for breakfast. I'm not quite sure what you think the exact maximum capacity of my stomach is, but let me tell you. You've completely overestimated. The table is brimming with pancakes and waffles, though I'm not sure why you would make both, bacon and sausage, fruit like apples, bananas and strawberries, eggs, and toast and so much more.

You smile and wave at the food explosion. "What do you think?"

My eyes are wide. I don't need a mirror to tell me this. "Are you expecting guests?"

You chuckle, and despite everything, I smile at it. "I wanted to make something special for you, but I wasn't sure what you would think special was, so I made everything."

"I would have been just fine with Cheerios."

You grimace. "You don't like Cheerios, Bella."

Meh. I shrug my shoulders at that. "But still. This is too much."

You come over and lay your arm on my shoulders. A heartbeat later, your other arms crosses in front of me, and when I don't pull back you pull me in. "I want to start the day off right."

My own arms hug you close. "Well, you're doing a great job at it."

I don't want to seem rude, so I grab a bit of everything. The servings are only a sample size, and still my plate is full. You only get yourself some after I've sat down and started eating, sitting next to me when you're ready to dig in, which you do with a flourish. I bird pick as Mom would say.

"What time did you get up to do all of this?"

It's your turn to shrug your shoulders. "I haven't gone to sleep."

Raised eyebrows and a, "What?"

"I can while you're at school. Don't worry about me."

Your gorgeous greens are so comforting and safe that I relax. "Thank you. Everything is delicious. It's all special because you made it."

"Well, you're special to me." And for the first time in a long time, I blush and that makes you smile around banana-mashed teeth.

It only takes minutes and it's a combination of so many things, but I can't eat anymore. I manage to shove a few more bites down. I don't want you to worry more than you already do. Even so, my plate hardly looks touched. I move things around with my fork, hoping to create the illusion of having eaten more than I did, but it doesn't work, and you notice.

"Eat more, Bella." My eyes roll up to your face and then quickly back down. I manage a half-bite.

"More." Another half-bite that is so hard to swallow.

"Don't make me tell you again, Isabella."

I throw my fork down. "I can't! It's too much! Please! I'm so nervous that I wasn't even hungry to begin with."

Your gorgeous greens stare down into mine like little unblinking laser beams. I can't look away, and it seems like minutes pass when only seconds do. You almost seem…angry. I don't want you to be angry with me. I think you see that because almost immediately the laser beams soften to glowing moonlight.

"All right. You can be excused," you say. I sigh in relief and jump out of my chair. "I've already laid out clothes for you. Go get ready for school."


	9. Chapter 9

**It's only just beginning. **

* * *

You send me off through the front door with a brown lunch bag and a kiss to my cheek while adjusting the straps of my backpack. I bask in the comfort and then make the long trek to my truck. It's only just down to the driveway, but everything seems so far and daunting now. You lend me your support the entire time.

You're smiling when I hop in and start the engine. You're waving when I'm backing out, taking my time in this huge hunk of metal and the not-so-familiar road. And then you're walking down to the street, watching as I drive away. You're still there, even when you're only a small speck in my rearview mirror, and I almost turn around when you finally disappear.

Having not stopped just because I decided to take a break, high school is still the same, and, even though I was expecting it to, I'm surprised at how much it hurts. It's painful to see how everyone has carried on when it takes me so much effort just to get out of bed every day. I frown at the smiles and laughter and idle gossip. Things that I used to find such joy in now seem pointless and gray.

Even Jasper can't get a smile out of me.

"Hey, babe," he says, throwing his arms around my body and bringing me in close. He's not as tentative or as careful as you would be. He doesn't feel the same. I'm stiff and uncomfortable, and a small part of me actually feels guilty because of that.

"Hey," I whisper.

"I tried calling you. I tried seeing you. I don't even know where you live anymore."

"I know. I'm sorry. Things happened so fast and there was so much to do." He pulls away and stares down at me. His eyes, those mellow blues that used to seem so sexy, are now so dull. I know it's not him. It's me.

"Are you okay?"

I pause. Why would anyone ask that question? They should already know the answer. "I will be."

He smiles, soft with no teeth, and then gives me a quick kiss. Right on the lips. I don't even have a chance to respond, not that I have the energy to. "Let's go to lunch."

All my friends, the ones who matter anyway, are already at the table. It begins with the foreseen awkwardness, but you can literally see how they all make an effort to act normal. I appreciate it, and yet I also want someone to acknowledge it, to yell, "I'm sorry your parents are dead!"

…no one does. No one is brave enough.

"So where are you living now, Bella?" Alice asks.

"Pinecrest Road." I open my lunch bag. You've packed me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crusts cut off, an apple, Capri Sun, and a Twinkie for dessert. That's when I smile for the first time in this school.

"Oh! Fancy!" Dollar signs. That's all she sees. "With your godfather?"

"Yeah."

Now Rose squeals. I hate it. So much happiness. Can't they see just how much I don't want to be here? "He's so hot."

Alice grimaces, and it makes me want to slap her face. "He's so old you mean."

Rose looks affronted. Like you just told her that Brad Pitt is actually a girl. "So? Have you seen him? He's hunky for an almost-forty dude. Besides, you think Johnny Depp is hot. He's way older."

"That's different. He's an actor."

"And GILF is a writer. What's your point?"

"It's different!"

"They both entertain people."

"Whatever."

"You make no sense." So much mindless talk.

Jasper tries to steal a sip of my Capri Sun. I snatch it away before he can. You packed this for me. It's mine. He smiles. Like I'm joking. Little does he know. I'm not.

"Let's change the subject. I'm done talking about hot men," he says.

Rose snickers. "Come on, Jasper. Don't be jealous."

"Gross."

I'm counting down the hours until I can be with you again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Tomorrow is Friday. Thank god. **

* * *

The house is quiet when I get back. The soft grays of your décor glow like fog in the late afternoon light. Jasper wanted to come along, but I told him no. All I really want to do is find that little bubble within your arms, but you're nowhere to be found. I feel so out of place creeping down the hallway, looking for you.

Then there you are with sleep-tousled hair, rubbing tired eyes with lazy hands. Standing in your doorway, your sleep pants hang low on your hips and your chest is bare, proving that older men really can have nice bodies. I've caught you mid-yawn, and I laugh as you try to catch it.

"Hey," you say with that smile I love. "I thought I heard you. How was school?"

"Same as ever." I shrug my shoulders. "I couldn't wait to get back here though."

Those gorgeous greens seem to study me for a bit before you open up your arms. A true smile dons my face as I rush into them. You pet my hair as I lay my cheek against your heart, the soft pitter-patter soothing to my frazzled nerves.

"Thank you so much," I whisper.

"For what?" you ask.

"The lunch. It was awesome. I haven't had one like that in so long."

I feel you smile against my hair as you press a quick kiss to the top of head. "I'm glad you liked it. I just want to make you happy."

I rub away imaginary tears across your chest, and your arms tighten around me. "You do. So much. I'm glad I have you after everything."

We stand there in the silence. It isn't tense like the silences I experienced at school. This one is love, all consuming love. You've been in my life for so long that it's hard not to love you, but I can feel it. Here and now. Something has changed. That love has changed. Morphed into something new.

And you know it too. I can tell by the way you still keep your arm around my waist as you lead me into the kitchen. When you grip me by the hips and help me into the barstool. When you cup my face and rub my cheeks with tender thumbs, saying, "Wait a second. I'll get you a snack."

You move so fluidly as you cut up the celery and spoon out the peanut butter before placing the raisin along the log. You lick at a bit on your finger and wink when you catch me watching. You pop a few raisins into your mouth and say "no way. You wait" when I try to take some too, and when you finally place the plate in front of me, my tummy is grumbling with so much desire that I can't help but scarf down the healthy-ness of it all, much to your approving gorgeous greens.

While my tongue battles the sticky in my mouth, you walk around the kitchen island until you're standing behind me. You sweep my hair off my shoulders, gently pulling it into a low ponytail and then sweeping it to the side. I can feel your breath on my exposed neck as you lean in close. Your chin rests near my ear as your arms come around to lay against my satisfied tummy.

And then you say, "Eat up, baby girl. I want you to grow big and strong."


	11. Chapter 11

**Surprise?**

* * *

The phone ringing catches us both off guard, and even more so, when you say, "It's for you."

Your face is blank as you call me over with an outstretched hand. I hope you can see the confusion and surprise on my face and know that, whoever it is, I don't really want to talk to them.

"I'll get your bath ready. You have ten minutes. All right, Isabella?"

I nod my head. I don't answer and instead watch your lithe body move across the room and down the hallway until you're out of my sight. Then and only then do I finally speak into the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Bella." I don't need to ask who it is. I know this voice.

"Jasper," I whisper in…shock? Fear? Anger? "How did you get this number?"

"Rose gave it to me," he says quietly, but we both know that's not what he means. His words so innocent and soft are really saying, "Why didn't you give it to me yourself?"

"I see."

"Anyway, how are you doing? You just zoomed out of there after school today. I was hoping we could hang out."

I sigh and rub at my eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be like this. It's just…"

"I know. I get it," Jasper says. He sounds so gentle and nice and comforting that I hate myself just a tiny bit for not really caring. "I just want to be there for you. I want you to know that you can come to me. I love you remember?"

That's where the conversation ends with me, though I'm sure it lasts a few more minutes. I spent it furiously trying to find a way to hang up without seeming rude that it's all a blur, but I'm sure Jasper noticed when I didn't say "I love you" back.

You aren't in the bathroom when I check, but you made good with your promise. The tub is all set, inviting me in. You've even added bubble bath that smells like cotton candy. I strip down bare and climb in, sighing at the heated wetness.

The steam billows through the area, fogging up the mirror and thickening so much so that I can hardly make out the sink across the way. Even so, I still know it's you when the door cracks open just wide enough for your body to slip in. You stand there, watching, gazing with your gorgeous greens, and I really don't know what to think. My body stiffens except for my eyes. They swing downwards checking the bubbles to make sure there's enough coverage.

And then you click your tongue and bend down picking at my clothes. "So messy, Isabella."

I watch out of my peripheral as you take your time folding my clothes before setting them on the counter. By the time you sit on the edge of the tub, the steam has cleared and nothing hampers my vision of you. Your bare chest is glistening just slightly with moisture as you lean over the hot water.

"Sit up," you say.

I don't move. "Um…what?"

"Sit up so I can wash your hair." You grab the tearless shampoo and sigh in exasperation when I still don't move. "I don't have all night, Isabella."

When you grow impatient, you yank at my arm until my back is upright. I bend my knees, pulling them to my chest, hiding myself from your view. The shampoo is cold as you pour some onto my head, but your fingers feel so nice when you begin to rub it in.

Just like with my clothes, you take your time, running your fingers through my strands, and then piling the heavy mass on top of my head where you alternate squeezing it between your hands and massaging your fingertips against my scalp. You don't stop until I'm sighing in pleasure and my body has relaxed.

"Does that feel good, baby girl?"

"Yes," I whisper with closed eyes. I think I whimper when you pull your hands away.

"Tilt your head back."

I do and you gently and slowly pour the water over my hair until it washes clean, and before I know or can stop you, you pull the plug from the drain and grab a towel. "Now stand up."

"Wait…I…what?"

Your gorgeous greens look angry as you stare down at me and my draining protection, but then they soften and you give me that gentle smile. "It's okay, Bella."

I'm shaking. Partly from the cool air and partly from nerves. But it's different. These nerves. They aren't the same ones from earlier at school. That fear. Nor are they the ones that stem from awkwardness. They feel…anticipatory. Like those butterflies you get in your tummy when you know something good is going to happen.

So with a deep breath, I slowly stand up on shaking legs. I'm too much of a coward to meet your eyes, so I stare down at my toes instead. I can feel your gorgeous greens as they scour my body, and I find myself holding my breath as a response. That's definitely out of fear…fear that you won't like what you see.

Nothing leaves your lips, so I'm flinch slightly when you start rubbing me with the towel. First my face, gently across my eyes, following the line of my neck and arms, over my chest and tummy, and wrapping around each leg, down to my toes. And when I'm dry, as you've thoroughly made sure, you enfold me within the towel, flinging it around my shoulders and bringing it to a close in front of me.

Your hands are strong on my hips as you help me out of the tub before saying, "Your pajamas are on your bed. Go get dressed. I'll there in a second to tuck you in."


	12. Chapter 12

**Sweet dreams, dear readers.**

* * *

The pajamas are thin and lacy and pink and a piece that I've never seen before in my wardrobe, but I put them on anyway. The material is silky against my skin and short enough to make me worry about how I sit in front of you.

You come into my bedroom just seconds after I slip into the pink lace. Your gorgeous greens are happy when they see the snug fit, and a blush steals across my face. You smile and run your fingers across my cheek, following the line you draw with your eyes.

"I'll comb your hair," you say, sitting on the bed. You spread your knees and invite me to sit on the floor between them. The wood is cold, but it's worth it as you work the brush through my long strands. It feels so nice that I begin nodding off a bit.

"You're still seeing that boy?"

"Huh?" I ask, my eyes snapping open, before slowing sliding halfway shut.

"That boy you went on dates with."

"Jasper?"

"Is that his name?"

"Yeah." I pause, so you tug on my hair just a little bit harder. "I guess so. It has been more than a year now. It's just…"

You wait and then say, "It's just what?"

"Things feel different now. With him." There's that guilt again. Jasper is going to be messy business. I just know it. "I don't know what to do."

You hum your acknowledgement, and slowly that hum turns into a lullaby and then nothing more is said. I start nodding off again. This time you chuckle. "It's time for bed, baby girl."

You tuck the covers so tight around me until I feel like a burrito and only my head is sticking out. You laugh as I try to wiggle around. I'm exaggerating, and you know this. I could easily get out of the entrapment, but it's nice to play along. And then with a kiss to my forehead, you're turning of the light and stepping out of the room, with a soft, "Good night. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite."

My dreams are of you. Of you standing over me, watching, protecting. I wiggle, fighting at my bindings, grasping at your long fingers, until the blankets fall from my body and the cool night air kisses my exposed skin, but you're just that much out of reach.

Your gorgeous greens trace the lines of my body from my naked shoulders, down the décolletage neckline of the pink lace that almost seems so sheer in the moonlight, following the up and down of my chest and then traveling even lower.

You're sighing, these soft little whimpers that tickle my ears and warm my senses. They grow louder until their not whimpers any more but these grunts. All man-made grunts that resonate from deep inside you. Speaking without words of your happiness…no. Of your pleasure. And then you're crying. Crying out my name so loud.

"Bella!"

I sit up, panting and sweaty. The blankets have tumbled over onto the floor. And with the dimming moonlight, I see that the room is empty. Where you stood in my dreams are now only shadows, remnants, reminders of that special moment in my mind.

I fall back down with a rush, hoping that my dreams are once again of you.


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry for the brief absence. Lesson for all you little kiddies out there. Drinking is bad for you.**

* * *

I don't go back to school. I want to say home with you, and you don't fight me on it. We live in our own little bubble as we reminisce about the past, and I can feel it. It will be slow and it will be painful but it is inevitable. One day…my heart will heal. Sometimes I feel like that is your own personal goal. To make me better.

"Remember when you were ten and you wrote me that love letter?" you ask me.

I blush. Of course I do. "I thought I was revealing this huge secret, but it turns out my crush was known to all."

You chuckle. "Yes, you weren't quite as discreet as you thought you were."

I sigh. "Everyone laughed at me. I poured out my heart as much as any little girl could and everyone laughed."

This time I laugh but you don't. You stay silent and when I look up at you, you're staring at me, your gorgeous greens so intense and alluring that even if I wanted to look away, I wouldn't have been able to.

"We shouldn't have laughed," you say. "Your love? It was just as beautiful then as it is now."

You scoot closer, slow and then slower still as if afraid I'll run at any sudden movement. Don't you know? I may have been ten years old, young and naïve and innocent without the full understanding of what true love really is, but that little girl crush? It never really went away, and I think that thought, that feeling? It scares me. Because you're you. My protector. My hero. My bubble.

"Bella?" you ask, your lips forming my name so sweetly, and when I look past your gorgeous greens and see you, you're so close. Your lips so close, and I think you want to kiss me and I kind of want you to kiss me too…but that's wrong, right?

You're closer still, just a breath away from laying your sweet lips across mine, so close and yet so far because yes, it's wrong, but that doesn't make me want it any less.

And then the phone rings. We both startle as you back away to answer, and when your gorgeous greens grow dark and you hand the phone over to me, I know the moment is lost.

"Hello?"

"Hey, babe." Jasper's whisper is soft. "How are you? You haven't been at school lately."

"Hey. Yeah. I know. Things have just been…"

"It's okay. I understand," he says as you stand up and walk to the kitchen. My eyes follow you the whole way. "We're all going out tonight. You should come."

"I—" And that's when I hear them…my friends. Yelling in the background. Sounding so carefree, unencumbered by responsibility and death.

"Belly-bee!" Rose's voice, so beautiful and strong, sounds like church bells calling me to service. "Let's go!"

"Come on, Bella!" Alice, so small and unassuming, a disguise to her normally bossy-like ways, has always gotten what she has wanted. "We miss you!"

And just for a second, I remember her. The old Bella. The one that went out at night. That played with friends. That kissed boys underneath the stars. And that's all it takes. That brief moment of weakness so that when I look up at you, you know too that the moment has been lost.


	14. Chapter 14

**pinklady34 has put an EPOV into my mind, and now it won't leave.**

* * *

I try to fight you on it, but you don't budge. It's embarrassing, and I know that as soon as I tell my friends, they'll laugh. I tell you this. You don't care. Your gorgeous greens stare down at me with this impenetrable gaze.

"What eighteen year old has a seven o'clock curfew?"

"You do."

"Come on! I haven't seen them in forever. We won't even be finished with dinner by then!"

"Eat fast."

I storm out of there, slamming the front door in the process. I don't want to see you. You ignore my mental pleas. You're standing on the porch steps as I jump into my truck, and even though I don't look back, I just know you're watching me as I drive away.

Everyone is already settled at the table when I arrive, and they all greet me with enthusiasm. I soak it all in, feeling oh so good; however, that inkling of guilt doesn't leave me. Even now, when I'm supposed to be having fun and being young, you slip into my mind.

"Hey, babe," Jasper says, getting up from table. He kisses me, so I kiss him back. Just a quick peck.

"Bella, you bitch!" Rose screams and we all flinch at the unwanted attention from the other tables. "Where the fuck have you been?"

"Jesus Christ, Rose! A few decibels lower please!" Alice whisper-yells.

Rose just shrugs her off. "Oh yeah. This is Emmett. We're dating now."

The new boys waves while Jasper leans over to whisper in my ear, "Her new boy toy she means."

I giggle and it feels so good. Jasper picks up on it and puts his arm over my shoulders, and though it isn't yours and doesn't put me into the bubble, it's safe and familiar. I know this feeling.

"So I heard Kate and Garrett are dating again," Alice says.

Rose snorts. "How long do you think it will last this time?"

"For as long as it takes him to stick his dick in another pussy."

Rose smacks Emmett's arms. "Come on! We're in public!"

Another shrug but from Emmett this time. "It's the truth."

We all laugh even though it causes a few of the other restaurant's patrons to glare at us and whisper about "those unruly teenagers."

And it doesn't bother me one bit because that's what I am. My parents' death? It doesn't change that. So I chat and joke and goof around. Just like I'm supposed to. And when the time comes, when I should leave so I'm not late for curfew, I don't. I ignore my watch and continue on.

"So how's life with the hotty godfather?" Rose asks me. Jasper clears his throat, and Rose almost looks guilty, but she can't take back her question.

"Good. We're both adjusting."

"Fuck," Rose moans. "What I wouldn't give to get him to adjust me."

"Oh my god, Rose. Shut up!" Alice shudders.

"Who's this dude you're all talking about?" Emmett leans forward, laying his hand on Rose's thigh. We can't see, but we all know.

"Bella's godfather. He is so fucking hot for an old man."

"He's not that old," I whisper, leaning in closer to Jasper.

"Thirty-eight is old, and shut up, Rose. You're so gross!"

"When you're thirty-eight I get to call you old!"

"Well, hopefully by then, I'll be married with kids. Not single and alone, taking care of my best friend's daughter like some dirty old creeper."

"Jesus, Alice! You know his wife died like eight years ago in that car accident! Could you be any more insensitive?"

And now I want to go back home. I pull away and Jasper notices. "Come on, guys! Let's talk about something else!"

But the moment is lost. That dirty old creeper? You? You're the one I want to be with.


	15. Chapter 15

**Oops.**

* * *

The house is dark when I finally get home. It should be. It's almost nine and way past my curfew. I'm scared as I tiptoe my way across the foyer. Maybe I'm lucky and you're already in bed. I don't want to find out, so I head straight to my bedroom.

But you're waiting for me. Sitting on the couch in the living room, watching as I try to sneak by. I see you when you lean over, resting your elbows on your knees, this big, dark shadow in my peripheral vision. I jump at first, my heart rate jumping along with me, but I recognize you. Even if I can't see you, I know.

And then your arm reaches over and you turn on the lamp, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow, that's when I know I'm in trouble. Your gorgeous greens are so dark, so stormy, as they stare at me, so much so that I start trembling. Just slightly. But enough for you to see.

Your voice matches your gorgeous greens when you speak. "You're late, Isabella."

"I know. I'm sorry," I say in a small voice.

"I'm not very happy with you right now."

That. That right there just about breaks my heart. I cry these tearless-sobs. Small little shakes of breath that unmove you. "I'm so sorry!"

"Come here," you say. I shuffle my feet, taking my time, and you growl in impatience. "Faster, Isabella!"

When I'm in reaching distance, you extend your arms and grab me. Though your hands are gentle, they are firm, and you don't take no for an answer as you pull me toward your body. I land in surprise across your lap, just barely catching myself so that I don't face plant into the cushion.

"What are you doing?" I say and then scream again even louder when your hands pull my pants down to my knees. "What are you doing?!"

You say nothing as I lay frozen across your lap, and just when I think it's safe to move, to wiggle away, your palm connects with my exposed ass. Once and then twice. Swift spanks that hit me just right. Not too hard but not soft enough. Up and down. I'll definitely be feeling them later.

"Ouch!" I scream, trying to roll away, but you hold tight. "Why are you doing this? Stop!"

Spank. "I'm sorry! Please stop!"

Spank. "I promise I won't be late ever again!"

Spank. "Please! It hurts!"

Spank. "You will obey my rules from now on, Isabella."

Spank. "I will! I promise I will!"

You stop, breathing harshly into the night air. I don't dare move. I don't even want to breathe. I don't want to chance anything in hopes that your punishment is now over. I sigh when your palm begins to rub where you spanked me. I can't see it, but I just know my ass is red.

"I was very worried about you tonight, Isabella."

I rub my face against the couch cushion. "I know. I'm so sorry. I promise it won't happen again."

Your fingers sooth my heated skin before dipping down between to that one place we both know you shouldn't touch. I moan. From pain? Maybe. From pleasure? Most definitely. But you're gone faster than what my mind can register before you say, "It better not."

You pull my pants back up before helping me to my feet. I can't look you in the eyes. Not quite sure what just happened.

"Get ready for bed. I've already laid out your pajamas. I'll be there in a few minutes to tuck you in."

I nod my head and do as I'm told without complaint. When you come to me just as you promised and pull back the covers on the bed, I don't even need to be told to get in. After you've tucked the blankets around me, you lean down and kiss me on the forehead.

"Goodnight, Isabella. I love you," you say as I close my eyes. "Say it back."

"I love you too."


	16. Chapter 16

**Aftermath.**

* * *

The next morning I'm awaken by the knock, knock coming from the front door. I can hear your feet softly shuffling across the hallway as you go to answer it. Are you bare-chested again? Is whoever at the door able to see how perfect of a body you have?

I slip from bed quietly and peek into the hallway. The soft morning light sends shadows across the walls, and I can see just a hint of yours. The lady at the door is old. She seems concerned as she talks and waves her hands at the same time.

"I know I heard screaming last night," she says, refusing to budge when you try to close the door.

"I swear to you, Mrs. Webber. There was no screaming going on here," you say, your voice deep and soothing. I can't understand how this Webber lady isn't immediately falling for your charms.

"It sounded like a young girl. I saw one leave here a few days ago. Is she here? I would like to speak with her."

You shake your head. "Mrs. Webber. It's seven o'clock in the morning."

"It would still ease my mind if I just know that no foul play has happened here."

"And I swear to you nothing of that sort has occurred."

I step closer. Either to my salvation or to your aid. I'm not quite sure which way I want to go. My ass still feels hot, and I can practically feel your palm on it. I knew I would be feeling the remnants of your punishment later. I'm not watching where I'm going, and I accidently run into the foyer table. The vase, empty of flowers, balances precariously on the edge, but I catch it before it can tumble to the floor.

However, you and the Webber lady both look in my direction. Two sets of eyes with two different messages.

She says, "Let me help you. I know you're in trouble."

You say, "Come here, baby girl, and don't say a word."

"Good morning," I whisper, stepping up to the door. You wrap your arm around my shoulders, and despite everything, it feels so good, so warm that I can't help myself with I lean in closer to you.

"Hello, dear. I'm Angela Webber. Your neighbor. Are you all right?"

You make a sound in your throat, but I don't acknowledge it because now I know. I have power here. You may have done what you did last night, but I can escape whenever I want, and I think that scares you. Terrifies you by the way you hold onto me tighter as if I'll disappear right this second.

"I'm just fine, Mrs. Webber. I'm sorry if you heard my…screams last night, but I assure you, they weren't out of pain."

She glances down then and takes in my pajamas. All lacy pinkness of it. You and I both can see as her mind registers the meaning behind my words, behind my outfit, and when she has taken it all in, when she fully realizes, she blushes, so bright red across her wrinkled cheeks.

"Oh. I understand."

Your hand rubs soothing circles across my naked skin, and I feel so good. Like I made you proud. "So you see, Mrs. Webber. There's nothing going on here."

Her whole body turns like she's ready to bolt. "You're quite right, and I'm so sorry for bothering you this early in the day."

Before you can even close the door, she's running down the porch steps and back to her side.


	17. Chapter 17

**I always say when the weekend comes, I'll write tons and get ahead. That never happens.**

* * *

You praise me with your words. With your hugs. With your lips. Sweet little kisses on top of my head, on my shoulder, on my neck.

"Oh, my sweet baby girl. What would I do without you?"

You feed me breakfast. Delicious pieces of fruit that sends juice down my chin and dripping onto the counter that you wipe away with quick fingers.

"I love you, baby girl. Don't you know how much I love you?"

You brush my hair until it shines, running your thick fingers gently through the strands, massaging my scalp before following the auburn down to the tips, before placing all of it in two ponytails high on my head.

"You're so beautiful. Do you even know long I've wanted you?"

When you take my body and sit me across your lap, I don't fight it. I snuggle in deeper, reveling in your words and your touch. I don't want this moment to ever end.

"My sweet baby girl," you say, tilting my chin with gentle fingers until I'm staring into your gorgeous greens. You look so in love. In love with me. So happy. "Will you let me kiss you? Please can I kiss you?"

My eyes widen. This was the point of no return. You were asking for permission. If I give it to you, this older man, my godfather, what other things would you do to me? But if I didn't, if I said no, how would that change things? Would you send me away? Would you move onto to other women? Would you stop loving me?

I don't want any of that, and even though, it feels wrong to say yes, to let you take our relationship to that level, I feel like I can't say no. And if I'm truly honest with myself…I don't want to say no.

So I nod my head and your smile replaces that fear of rejection in your gorgeous greens, and then you're leaning into me, so slow it's torturous. I can't handle the anticipation so that when our lips finally do touch, I jump. Not out of fear, but out of pleasure.

Your lips so plump, so strong against mine feel so right. I've been kissed by a handful of boys. All of us fumbling with hands and tongue as we learn the art that you have so beautifully mastered. And so beautiful it is. Your lips are like your paintbrush and I am your canvas. You kiss you way across my face, down my neck, along the top of my breasts and then back up to my lips.

"Oh, baby girl," you say, eyes gently closed as your lips wander on my naked skin. "You taste so much better than I'd imagined."

I was wrong. I don't want _this_ moment to ever end.


	18. Chapter 18

**Back to this.**

* * *

I can still feel your lips on my skin. Steam rolls around me, the hot water hugs me, and the soap tickles me, and yet all I can think about is you kissing your way across my cheek, my neck, the top of my breasts. You were so sweet, so powerful as you dominated over my body, guiding me in ways I'd only ever imagined.

I giggle a bit, splashing the surface of the water with my fingertips in joy. You make me so happy. Just…so happy. The happiest I've been in a long time.

"Well it looks like someone is enjoying bath time," you say, leaning against the frame of the door. I can't help it when I look down to make sure if the bubbles are covering the important parts. You've seen me enough times during bath that I shouldn't be so self-conscious, but I still am.

"You're letting all the hot air out," I say with a big a smile.

You chuckle, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. "Yes, we wouldn't you to catch cold now." Your gorgeous greens briefly flicker downward before catching my eyes again.

I blush, my face feeling extra hot because of the heat swirling around the tub. I can't help it. You do this to me.

You chuckle again and sit on the edge of the tub, reaching over for the tearless shampoo. You do this every night now. Wash my hair, and though it's still a little weird to have you attend to my basic needs, I've grown to accept it.

"Bella?" you ask, slathering the soap up.

"Hm?"

"You're my sweet girl right?" Your fingers tickle through my hair, undoing any knots they find.

I smile. "Of course."

"And you would do anything for me right?" you ask, rinsing the last of the shampoo out.

"Um…I guess. Why?"

I feel more than see you lean over, and my eyes close when your lips linger over my wet forehead. I love your lips, but then there's a pinch, and that doesn't feel so good. My eyes snap open. Though it doesn't hurt, I definitely feel it. Your fingers hold me just under the armpit, the tight grip you have squeezing my skin.

"What are you doing?"

Your gorgeous greens stare down at me, daring me to argue with you. "Stand up."

"What?"

Your other hand hooks underneath my other arm, and then you're lifting me from the tub, water trailing behind me, leaving oozing puddles on the floor. I grasp your arms as my feet drag on the ground, my wet toes providing poor friction. The counter is cold on my ass when you set me on it. I try to crawl off, hiding as much of my body as I can, but you push me back, holding me steady with determined hands.

You soothe my wet hair back from my face and give me a small smile that offers comfort and apology but most important authority. "Don't worry, Isabella. You're not in trouble."

"Wha—what are you doing?"

Your gorgeous greens flicker down my naked body as you step closer, prying my knees apart with your hips, setting my heels back on the counter alongside my ass. I can't help it when I begin to shake as you glare at the patch of dark hair between my legs.

"This, Isabella, this I don't like." You shake your head and I've never felt so horrible. "So dirty."

"I'm sorry," I wail, lying back until my head rests against the mirror.

You tut your tongue while reaching into the drawer for a razor. "It's not your fault, baby girl. Now hold still and I won't cut you."

"Please don't," I whisper, eyeing the blade in your hand.

You shake your head with a frown. "Now, now. You just said you'd do anything for me, and this…well, this would make me very happy."

I can't watch as you shave me. I've never even had the courage to do it myself. The idea of anything sharp down there scares me, but here you are, gently touching my vagina in an attempt to rid it of hair. I never thought the first time you touched me down there would be like this.

"That's my girl," you say with a soft smile. "You're doing fine."

And then you're sighing, petting my smooth skin with gentle fingers. "Perfect. Feel yourself Isabella. Don't you feel perfect?"

I know it will please you so I say, "Yes."


	19. Chapter 19

**Now for a little downfall.**

* * *

I refuse to touch…down there. It feels smoother and the silk you have me wearing for panties is cool against my skin, and where this is most definitely a new experience for me…I can't touch it. I can't acknowledge it. The act of what you did is still too embarrassing to think about.

Hug me? Ok. Kiss me? I like that. Take care of me? I can accept it. Make love to me? I can only hope. But shaving my vagina? Who does that?

The cool satin I lay my head against and rub my tearless-stained cheeks on is just like my aching pussy and when I say "aching" I mean misery rather than pleasure. It's wet, cold, and weird feeling, and then…it starts to itch. It's like a phantom itch. You know. Like on your back. Where it itches though it really doesn't, and the more you think about it, the more it itches.

That's what this is. I've thought about it so much in the past few hours since you've tucked me into bed that it itches so badly right now, but I still refuse to touch it. Why did you do this to me? I still blush at the memory of you spreading my legs and scrutinizing the in-between.

I knew you knew I was upset. You tucked me in so tight and your lips lingered longer they have before and your gorgeous greens stared down at me with so much worry.

"Good night, sweet girl," you said. "I love you."

And even though I said, "I love you" back and I really do mean it, I'm so confused. Why couldn't our day have ended with soft kisses? I like those. The way your lips dragged so gently across my skin. You weren't harsh tonight during bath time, albeit a little determined…and I guess that scares me just a little too.

I know I can't refuse you. When you ask me with your pout and sad, worried greens, I'll always say yes, and if I said yes to this, what else would I say yes to? I don't know if I'm willing to fall down the rabbit hole. To submit to you. To accept whatever you dish out.

Who is this girl I've become? Who am I?

The sun is already rising, the white walls being painted that soft pink, and I still haven't slept. I don't think I will be able to. You'll be in here soon, to wake me up and feed me breakfast, and I actually find that my heart increases at that thought.

I don't want to see you.

So I dress quickly, dropping the pink lace to pool on the wood floor. I kick it underneath the bed in spite. The hallway is quiet when I venture out, so I tiptoe past your room, hoping you sleep like the dead. My truck comes to life louder than I've ever heard it before, and I don't breathe until your house is safely out of view of the rearview mirror.

The school parking lot is still empty when I get there. It is early after all, but I wait anyway. And even though I know this would just hurt you, I can't seem to stop myself when I see the one person I want most right now.

"Jasper!"


	20. Chapter 20

**Updates might be a little bit wonky for the next couple of days. Going on a work trip to the land of cold and snow. But I'll do my best. **

* * *

Jasper can see it in my eyes, the unsettlement, as I run up to him. He looks around briefly, his mellow blues swinging around the getting-more-crowded parking lot. Leaning in close, he lays his arm around my shoulders.

"Are you all right?" he whispers into my ear. I can feel the concern coming off of him as I sink into his body and shake my head no.

"What's the matter?" How can I explain it to him? How can I explain it to myself?

"Want to get out of here?" That I answer to quickly with a nod of my head. Hell yes I want go somewhere. He jerks his chin in acknowledgement and then drags me by the shoulders to his car.

Alice runs up from left field, grabbing onto his free arm. "Hey, Jazzy! Where are you going?"

The way she is looking at him makes me angry, all starry-eyed and big smile. I grasp his shirt tightly, and when he nods his head sharply at her, I can't help but grin maliciously. I need him right now. Her eyes dim and her smile fades when she notices me standing within the tight protective custody of his arms.

"Bella?" She sounds perplexed. "When did you get back?"

"Not right now, Alice," Jasper says, turning his body slightly in the direction of his car…away from her. I sneer. "We're just headed out."

"You're leaving?" She waits for his confirmation and then, "But…school? Where? What about—"

"Not now, Alice." His back is to her now and I can't help but peek over his shoulders, elated by her crestfallen expression. "We'll talk later."

"But…Jazzy…"

Jasper shakes his head at. "Later, Alice."

When her gray eyes meet mine, I can't help it when I stand up on my tiptoes, elongate my neck, and kiss Jasper where his neck meet his shoulder, just on the edge of his shirt's collar. Those hateful grays harden. She knows, but most importantly, I know, and I'm not willing to share.


	21. Chapter 21

**How will this end?**

* * *

Jasper takes me to his home. The car ride there is silent, my hand clutching desperately at his. The walk in is silent, his arm safeguarding us in. And the moment we lay on his bed is silent, cuddling into each other's arms.

It isn't until our erratic heartbeats and frantically wandering hands have settled that he finally says something. "What's wrong, babe?" I shake my head.

"Did something happen?" Another head shake.

"Is it bad?"

A pause and then, "I don't think so. I'm just freaking out."

"Do you want to talk about?" he asks, his hand coming up to pet my hair. It doesn't feel nearly as good as when you do it, but it's still comforting.

"No…can you just hold me for a second?"

His lips brush my forehead oh-so gently. "I can do that."

When his hold relaxes, I shove at his shoulders. "Tighter." When it's not tight enough, I grab his shirt and pull him closer. "Tighter!" When that doesn't feel quite right either, I smack at his chest in frustration.

"Jesus, Bella! What do you want from me?"

We glare into each other's eyes, his more impatient than angry. I grab his neck, pulling him toward me. He fights at first and then a second passes as he realizes what I want but it's too late by then because his lips are already on mine. Not that he cares. He's a boy. Boys always want this…right?

"Kiss me," I mumble against his mouth, watching as his mellow blues slowly begin to close.

"I can do that," he says, but it's so garbled, I can only guess on that.

His lips feel nice, but not as nice as yours. They're gentle as they press against mine, but not as gentle as yours. They're soft as they slide across my cheek, but not as soft as yours. And they're tantalizing when they glide down my neck…but not as tantalizing as yours.

"Fuck," I say.

"Does that feel good, babe?"

I want to tell him no, but I don't want him to stop, so instead I yank his shoulders. I pull his hair. I run my fingernails down his back. When he moans, I bite his lip. When he shifts closer, I kick him in the shins.

"Fuck," he groans, his breaths heavy against my throat. "You make me feel so good. I miss you so much."

And then he's kissing along my collarbone and nudging at the buttons on my shirt. His fingers, only a whisper on my skin, slide up my arms from my fingertips to my shoulders and then tracing the collar of my shirt, down to that first and then popping it open.

I push my hips into his. "Come on, Jasper."

His fingers slide down slowly and then even slower it seems until the second button pops open. "Come on, Jasper!"

It feels like hours before that third button comes undone. "Fucking shit!" I grab the open edges of my shirt and pull, feeling the rest of the buttons scatter.

And that's when Jasper pounces, pushing at my shoulders, biting at my skin, and ripping the shirt from my body, uncaring of how it pulls violently against my skin, possible leaving marks I'll find later.

Finally.


	22. Chapter 22

******"Slut" is a horrible word, and shame on you if you've ever called someone that.**

* * *

Jasper's body is heavy as he lays on me, and the wet trail his mouth leaves behind on my neck feels disgustingly cool, but I the love the way his fingers grasp at my skin, pinching and pulling, leaving behind barely-there bruises, and the harder I push and pull at him, the more worked up he gets and the darker the marks become.

I know I'll come to regret this later, but this feeling like I'm out of control, like I'm second fiddle to his pleasure, like I'm being dominated feels so exhilarating. I want more. I need more. So I fight for it. Literally.

When his hands slowly tickle my tummy and the waistline of my pants, I grab his fingers, squeezing and bending and showing my general impatient-ness. "Let's go already!"

Jasper's eyes darken as he pulls back. His hands grab my shoulders and slam them back onto the bed. I land with a slight bounce. "Lay back and let me do this."

And then my jeans are coming down my legs, followed closely by my panties. He sits on his knees and stares. I allow him a few seconds before kicking him in the chest. He jumps forward with a growl, his lips land near my hips as his fingers dive in between my legs.

"Fuck, babe," he groans against my skin. "You're so sexy. So fucking sexy. I can't believe your fucking bare."

He begins to kiss upwards, his fingers delving deeper, slipping against my wetness, pressing against what feels good, and plunging in to where only my fingers have ever gone.

"You feel so good. So wet. I've wanted this for so long. Dreamed about it. Fuck. I love you, babe."

I don't say it back. I can't say it back. But he doesn't notice. His fingers move in rhythm, in and out and swirl. Repeating. Over and over. In and out and swirl. I'm moaning, moving my hips, shaking my head back and forth, pulling him closer until he's grinding his happiness against me. All of this and I'm…wanting more.

Thicker fingers. Stronger arms. Longer hair. Darker skin. And a body only you can have.

"Are you close, babe? Are you gonna come? Come for me. I want to watch you come."

He leans back and his mellow blues are looking at me, watching, waiting, expecting. So much expectation that I start to tearlessly cry. Big sobs, bubbling out of my mouth, but he thinks they're moans. Pleasured filled moans when they are exactly the opposite. Can't he see? How much turmoil I'm in?

"Come on, babe. Let go."

You would know my feelings. You would see them immediately. In fact, you would know them before they even occurred. You anticipate. Always anticipating. Always spot on.

I don't want his mellow blues. I want your gorgeous greens. Your arms and that bubble they create. I want your fingers on my bare pussy. I wish they were the first to explore me. I want you to make me come, and now that I've thought it, nothing Jasper can do will make it happen.

So I push him away, ignoring his surprised cry. I throw on my jeans and his shirt and run for the door. He calls after me, tells me to wait, asking what's the matter, but I keep running, out the door and then down the street until I can't hear him anymore and I slow down to a walk.

I wish I could cry tears. Where have my tears gone? And that's when I see you, pulling up to the curb in your car, rolling down the window until your blank face and hard gorgeous greens are unobstructed.

"Get in."


	23. Chapter 23

**Still on work trip and probably ****freezing my ass off. **

* * *

You slam the front door behind you so hard that I jump at the sound and then you're walking past me without even a glance, and in a low voice say, "Get in the bathroom."

You leave no room to argue so I do as you say with you close on my heels. You sneer in disgust at my clothes. "Take everything off."

I don't even feel embarrassed as I strip to nothing while you turn the knobs and let the tub fill. "Get in."

I do, watching you carefully. Your gorgeous greens have yet to meet my own eyes. You're avoiding me when all I really want is you to hold me. But behind all that anger, all that passive aggressiveness, I know you're hurt. I can't see it, but I know it's there. I've hurt you, and I'll hate myself forever for that.

The water is scalding hot when I get in and my skin immediately turns pink, but it's bearable, so I don't complain. You wait until I'm settled before turning and picking up Jasper's shirt from the floor with just your pointer finger and thumb.

"Stay there. I'm burning this." I have no doubts that that's exactly what you do as you pivot out of the bathroom.

I sigh and wipe at my tearless eyes. I'm so stupid. So selfish. So confused.

You return minutes later with a washcloth in hand and sit on the tub's edge. Dipping the cloth into the water, you start scrubbing at my skin. First soft and then harder until my pink from the water turns ever pinker.

"So dirty," you mutter to yourself.

"Please," I beg…begging for your gorgeous greens. Begging for forgiveness. Begging for your love.

"So fucking dirty." You scrub down my neck, across my breasts, down my tummy, and toward my bare pussy, and then you look up, and I almost wish you hadn't because your gorgeous greens look so hateful. "He touched you here didn't he? He fucking stuck his fucking fingers in my pussy didn't he, Isabella?!"

My head shakes no while my mouth says, "I'm so sorry!"

The washcloth floats to the top of the water as I feel your fingers poking and prodding me down there. "His dirtiness is inside you. How could you let his dirtiness inside of you?"

I'm still wet, but only slightly, in places where the bathwater was not able to wash away, so your thick finger slides in easily. First one and then two. Moving in and out. Pressing against my walls. And even though you're angry, even though your cleaning me, I can't help it because it feels so good. I moan. Loud and clear that it echoes inside of the bathroom.

"Did he make you moan like this, Isabella?"

Your thumb joins the frenzy, swirling that tight knot just wanting to explode. There's nothing to grab onto, nothing to hold me down, so I flail, kicking my legs, moving my arms, pushing my hips from the water.

"Did he make you feel like your body is about to explode?"

"No!" I yell, throwing my head back, squeezing my eyes shut. In just seconds, I'm so close when it took Jasper minutes. "Only you've done this to me! Only you!"

And then your fingers are gone. My body is still flailing. It hasn't registered yet that you will not finish me off, and when it does, it cries out. It needs it. It aches for it. I grasp at your fingers but you back away, glaring down at my submerged pussy.

"Why?! Why are you doing this to me?" I yell at you, leaning out of the tub, my hands stretched out, reaching for your retreating form.

You growl, slapping my hands to the side. "Little girls do not get to question their daddies."

When you see my eyes widen and realize what you've said, you frown, turning around, punching the door on your way before walking out of the bathroom. That dent. The dent in the wood. That's the only thing I have left of you for the rest of the night.


	24. Chapter 24

**Work trip over and done with. Now back to our regularly scheduled updates...ish.**

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I don't see you all day. You're nowhere in the house. You've taken your car and have disappeared. You don't leave a note. You don't call. You just went without telling me. It's been that way since I woke up.

I pick my own clothes. I make my own food. I choose what I want to watch on TV. And it's almost like how things used to be. Like I was a regular teenager. Without dead parents. In a relationship with an amazing boy. And a godfather who didn't mind spending a few extra bucks.

Daddy? Is that how you see me? Do you see me as your little girl? Do you want to take care of me like a child? But why do you kiss me? Touch me in ways that only men do to women?

The front door shuts quietly when you come in. I watch you as you make your way from the foyer to the living room. You look impeccable dressed in a nice suit. All black and silvers and red. I've never seen you so dressed up. But you look tired. You have this emotion in your gorgeous greens like you're done with the day.

You turn the TV off without a word. I don't care. I wasn't really watching anyway. "Bedtime," you say without meeting my eyes.

"But…I want to talk—"

"Don't make me say it again, Isabella."

Your voice is so final that I get up and listen. You don't come in to say goodnight. To tuck me. To kiss my forehead. To tell me you love me. Nothing. I leave my door cracked open, but you just walk by it, going to your own room.

I wait. For hours I lay in my bed, waiting for you to come. But you never do and so I fall asleep to my own tearless sobs.


	25. Chapter 25

**Empathy: the power of understanding and imaginatively entering into another person's feelings.**

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I dream of you. But that's nothing new. I've been dreaming of you since that first time. Standing by my bed. Looking down at me. Protecting me from what goes bump in the night. Whispering sweet words. How beautiful I am. How sweet I am. How good I make you feel.

Tonight is different though. You're on your knees by my bed, your fingers brushing the hair from my face. You sob silent tears, rubbing your wet cheeks against my shoulder, whispering sad words. Most of which I can't understand. But those that I do…well, they break my heart.

"I'm so sorry…"

"I love you so much…"

"I don't know what I'm doing…"

Your tears trickle from my shoulder, following my collarbone before falling down into that womanly valley and collecting along the lacy pink. I yearn to reach out to you, to enfold you in my arms, to brush away your tears, and comfort you like you've comforted me so often in the past. But just like in all my dreams, I don't. I can't.

"I tried so hard…"

"It's not normal…"

"I can't help myself…"

Your confusion and troubles confuse and trouble me. Don't you know what you feel I feel? When you published your first book, I was elated as much as you were. When Jessica died in the car accident, I cried as many tears as you did. When you were angry with Dad when he accepted that new job in the city, I was so red hot I wouldn't talk to him either.

"I want to take care of you…"

"Love you like I couldn't before…"

"You're my little girl…"

When my walls turn pink and my eyes finally open, you aren't there. You never are. But this time…my skin is stained and sticky and my lace is damp, and I can only hope and wonder.


	26. Chapter 26

**I went to google up something I could put here and then got distracted by images and news of Prince Harry...**

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You don't come in to wake me. You don't tell me when breakfast is ready. You don't insist I get changed out of my pajamas. I hear you. Shuffling in the hall. Being busy in the kitchen. Moving around in your room. I see you. Your back as you stand by the sink. Your shoulder as you turn a corner. Your frown when you see me.

It's like this all day, and it's driving me crazy. How have things fallen so quickly for us. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours, and yet I miss you. I miss your arms, your smile, your comforting words. I miss your kisses and how sweet they were. But most of all, I miss us. Being in your presence.

I wallow in the kitchen and then the living room. Always in your sight when you venture from your room. Always waiting for you to talk to me. To look at me. To acknowledge me. But you don't. I wait all day, watching as the walls darken with the dimming sunlight.

I decide to cook you dinner, hoping you'll eat with me. It's simple. Top Ramen. Even so, I still mess it up. The noodles are too soft. I try again and it's marginally better, but still kind of gross. I serve you the better batch. Pouring it into a bowl and setting it front of your chair at the table.

That's what you see when you walk into the kitchen. Me with my bowl with the too-softs and an empty chair with your bowl calling your name. You sit and start eating, whispering a quiet "thank you" as you do.

But besides those two words, you don't say anything else, so I'm pleasantly surprised when you sit back, twiddling your thumbs, after you've finished your meal.

"It was good."

"Don't lie."

A small hint of a smile lifts the corner of your lips. "You're right, but thanks for trying."

You don't say anything again, and the silence is so tense that I think I might actually go crazy before finally, "I've been talking to your Aunt Sue."

"Oh yeah? What about?"

You hesitate. "We discussed about you going to live with her."

My fork drops to the table before tumbling to the floor. It hits with a loud clatter in the otherwise silent room. If there was a perfect time for my tears to come back, this would be it, but they don't. Nevertheless, I still start sobbing. These big mouthfuls of air.

"You don't want me here anymore? You're tired of me?"

You shake your head. "No, Bella—"

"It's because of Jasper right? I'm tainted. You don't want me because of that!"

You look up vehemently. Your eyes cross. "Don't say that again! You are not tainted. You are and will forever be perfect."

I fall to my knees, crawling across the wood floor, closing the short distance between us. My arms wrap around your waist as I bury my head in your lap.

"Then why are you sending me away? Don't you love me still? Don't you want me anymore?"

Your hands hover above me but they don't touch. I want their touch. I want you to tell me it's all joke. That I can stay with you forever. But you sigh. That's all. Just a sigh. But that simple sigh tells me so much. And I don't want to hear it.

"I can't do this any more, Bella. I want you in ways I've never wanted anyone else. I don't understand it."

"We can work it out together. Understand it together. Please don't send me away!"

You shake your head with closed eyes. "You're so young. So tender and beautiful. And you've been through so much already."

"Then don't add to my pain! I want to stay here with you!"

"What I've imagined. What I want you to do. What I want to do to you. It's too much. To much to ask of you."

"Please! I'll do anything!"

You hands finally touch me, but they do so to push me away. I grab at you, holding you to me, but you pull away, walking from the kitchen. You turn at the door, and without meeting my eyes, say with a sad frown, "You leave this weekend."


	27. Chapter 27

**I'm on Twitter. Follow me if you'd like.**

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I cry so hard that night that I can't even sleep. Your words, my thoughts, my feelings, they all keep me awake. You sending me away. I don't think anything has ever hurt worse than this.

You don't want me. I know you do. You've told me you do. But you're giving me up. It's what's best for me. More like what's best for you. Most likely a little bit of both. And really…it probably is.

With Aunt Sue I can go back to being the old Bella. The one who went to school. Got average grades. Partied with friends. Didn't care what time she went to bed at night. Or what she ate or dressed while at the same time obsessing over body image. Who stole kisses with Jasper. Who tempted him into going "farther" but never did because she wasn't ready. Who loved him for being patient.

That girl. I miss her. She was so carefree and young. With no responsibility or worries. Looking toward a bright future. She wanted to leave this small town for bigger and better and things. Here. In this house. With you. Would she be able to?

With Aunt Sue she would. Old Bella would be able to come back. Be free. Live again.

But I'm not old Bella anymore. I'm this new girl, born the day she found out her parents died. And really…could I ever be the old Bella again?

Now that I've tasted your sweet lips, felt your hands on my body, your love surrounding me, as unconventional and unfamiliar and strange as what we have is, can I say goodbye to it forever? Do I want to?

You've always been there for me. You never missed a birthday, major event, tear, or laugh. You've held me when I was down. Pushed me when I wanted to give up. Lent me an ear when I needed one. And I love you for all of that. Will always love you.

Love. There are so many different kinds of it out there. Can a person feel more than one for a single person? I love you in many ways. I love you as my best friend, my caretaker…my lover.

Even though we haven't done much, I love you like that. I love your kisses and touches. Your sweet words and declarations of fondness and tenderness. And leaving you, it makes my heart weep.

I don't want to leave. I'll do anything to stay. And you need to know that. The hallway is dark, but I'm still able to find my way to your room by counting my steps. One. Two. Three. Ten steps down. Your door is cracked and when I push it open it makes a small creaking noise. I see your unmoving shape on the bed, barely lit up by the red glow of your alarm clock.

I go to you.


	28. Chapter 28

**Boom.**

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You don't wake up. Not when the bed dips when I crawl onto it or when I straddle your waist. Your breaths are heavy with sleep. In this state you seem so much younger. So much softer. Without any worries or problems to face.

You aren't wearing a shirt, so I run my hands down your body. Your skin reacts, goose bumps following in my wake. Down, down, down. Until that hair just below your bellybutton tickles my fingers. And then even further down where I play with the drawstring of your cotton blue sleep pants.

Your pants are so thin, and I wonder if you're wearing anything underneath because I can feel you, and when I say you I mean _you_. And the more I run my fingers over your skin, the more I can feel _you_, and you feel so good.

I can't help it when my hips begin to move, a slow rocking, back and forth, back and forth over you. You're so hard, rubbing that perfect place, over my satin panties. I moan just a little bit, and you stir but still don't wake up.

So I lean down, rubbing my front against yours, placing small kisses on your forehead and then your eyes, down your nose and then pecking your lips. My tongue sneaks out when I get to your neck, savoring your salty flavor, and I don't even mind the hair on your chest.

This time you do wake. I feel you jump when you realize that not only is there someone else in the room, that someone is on top of you, straddling you, riding your cock.

Your hands grab at my moving hips. "Bella?!" you say in a ragged sleepy voice.

"I'm here. Please don't make me go," I whisper against your skin, fighting your hands holding me so still.

"What the fuck." I feel your head shift as you looks down at me, your gorgeous greens slowly adjusting to the darkness as you take all of me in. "What are you doing?"

"Please don't send me to Aunt Sue. Please! I want to stay here with you."

You sigh. Letting your head fall back onto the pillow. "Bella…I'm sorry, but you're going."

I kiss your body more. More lips. More tongue. You groan just a tiny bit and now you're so much harder down there. I can feel you. Straining against the cotton. Fighting to break free. I try to move my hips again, but your hands hold me steady.

"Jesus, Bella," you say with a strained voice, your eyes squeezed so tight as you try to fight me. "Fucking stop it! Go to your room!"

I shake my head, my long hair trickling across your body. You suck in your breath as I look up at you through my eyelashes and say, "Please, Daddy. Please don't make me go. Let me stay with you."

Your gorgeous greens pop open almost instantly, and you stare down at me with this hard look. I wait for the rejection. The heartbreak. For your hands to push me away. For your voice to tell me to go.

But none of that happens.

You grab me by my arms, pulling me up and then flipping me over onto my back. Everything blurs in my vision as I'm tossed around and then suddenly you're there, hovering over me, staring with this dark look in your gorgeous greens. But it's your smile. That perfect big smile that gives me hope.

"Say it again," you say. "Call me Daddy."

So I do while trailing my hands from your pants, up your abdomen, past your chest, and to your shoulders, where I follow that strong line inwards until my fingers are laced behind your neck.

"Daddy. I love you so much. I want you. Please take care of me, Daddy."

I didn't know it was possible, but that perfect big smile gets even bigger as you lean down, kissing me right over the heart, and then you're whispering into my ear, "Oh, Isabella. You've been such a naughty little girl."

That line? Well it's been crossed. In fact, I can't see it anymore, and even if I wanted to, there's no going back now.


	29. Chapter 29

**All of your reviews yesterday made me smile so hard I thought my cheeks would crack. Thank you for sticking through and reading these crazy thoughts that form in my imagination.**

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You kiss me so hard. Your lips punishing and bruising, but I love it. I need more of your grasping fingers and your frantic tongue. You rip the pink lace from my body, and I'm only too happy to see it pool on the floor like a blushing puddle of forgotteness. If I have my way, it will stay there for the rest of the night.

Everything about you roams. Your hands. Your fingers. Your gorgeous greens. Your breath. Your tongue. You trace the marks leftover on my body from my tryst with Jasper, growling your anger and soothing the painful memory of letting someone other than you touch my body with your gentle kisses.

First, the mark on my neck where he sucked too hard. A sweet kiss. Second, the mark on my breast where he thought to make a game of love play. A wet kiss. Third, the mark on my tummy where the flesh seemed so inviting he thought to bite. A smothering kiss. So many more you trace with your lips and tongue. So many more you erase with your love and guidance.

Your whispers, so soft and deep, destroy all feelings of self-conscious and doubt. Am I good enough for you? Can I please you as much as you please me? And though you've seen my naked body countless times before, now that we've reached this stage, this point of no return, do you regret what you've come to worship? Do you wish you had chosen a different vessel for your pleasure?

As fleeting as my breaths leave my lungs as you make my body come alive is as fleeting as those thoughts. You make me feel beautiful. A goddess. The only woman you could ever love.

"My sweet, sweet girl," you say against my skin. "I've waited so long for you. For this. I want you so much."

You kiss my satiny panties of the same color as the lacy puddle on the floor, and I can only hope that is where they will go as well. When your body slithers down the bed, elongating and bending in a dance so sensuous that I can't help but arch my back, you push between my legs until you're settled comfortably within their nest.

You look so tempting, so scandalous, staring at the wet patch on the satin, licking your lips as if you haven't seen a meal in days. Perhaps in this sense, you haven't. And that hunger within your gorgeous greens, so filled with desire that it makes my own stomach clench, only increases when you slip that satiny covering off.

I don't see where they land because you're touching me. Right where I'm so wet, and it makes me moan, throwing my head back until all that flutters before are the shadows playing in the corner of the room. Though this isn't a new experience because you've touched me here before, it still feels so different. For you and me. To have let go of those past reservations and embrace the now enables me…us to completely experience what we do to each other, and it is exhilarating.

"Say it again, sweet girl," you whisper, your lips dancing across my inner thigh. "Call me that special name. Make my dick weep with your words."

All I can manage are breathless sighs, and despite that, I still feel your smile across my skin when you hear the softness. "Daddy. Oh, Daddy. You make me feel so good. Please, Daddy. Please take care of me. Please make me come."

Your laugh is low, but I hear it nonetheless. "My sweet girl. So impatient. So greedy. What will I ever do with you?"

Your fingers are so fast, so strong, right against that sensitive button that I've tortured into orgasm so many times in the past. And yet what my fingers couldn't do, yours can. You know how to tease. To stall. To make me wanting more until I'm stretching, reaching, thrashing on the bed, calling out your name, begging for that release.

"Daddy! Please! I can't take it anymore!"

"Tell me how you feel, sweet girl."

I can't understand how you expect me to talk in a time like this. I can barely manage breathing and yet you want me to hold a conversation like we're discussing the weather when all I want is for you to let me fall fantastically.

"I feel so tight! So ready to explode. Like a can of soda all shaken up! Please, Daddy! Open me up! Let me go!"

You chuckle again, your pointer finger dipping down and sliding inside of me. "Don't you worry. You've been such a good little girl. Daddy will take care of you."

I chance a peek at your movements down below. Just in time to see your head dip and your tongue slither out. Your mouth is so hot. Your tongue so fast. Your lips so good as you sing me our favorite lullaby.

"Hush little baby. Don't say a word."

That's when I fall. Head first. Straight down. Falling. Falling. Falling.


	30. Chapter 30

**It's just one of those days ;-)**

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It's so dark. Not the room or the shadows on the wall or your body so lean and strong, towering over me. My sight. My mind. Nothing makes sense as I climb back up that ladder to reality. What you just gave me? What you made me feel?

Words cannot describe it accurately enough. I could say it was like flying to the stars and then plummeting back to earth in a fireball of delight. But that just won't do. So unfitting. So not right.

Then the lights turn back on. Not literally because we both can't be bothered with electrical devices. The moonlight washing in through the sheer white curtains provides enough illumination for us to gaze upon each other's bodies without worrying that we'll miss something.

And I don't miss anything. Especially when your hands slowly pull your drawstring, until the knot falls open and your sleep pants slacken on your hips, dipping dangerously low until I see that prominent line that leads straight to your pleasure.

That pleasure. Your penis. Your dick. I definitely see that. So hard beneath that blue cotton, fighting for its way out into the cool night air, pitching a tent in which you are no way ashamed of. When you push the waist band down, letting it slide gently against your skin, the rustling cadence the complete opposite of my panting breaths, it catches on your pleasure. Only the tip. Before you yank it off completely, throwing that blue cotton away from your body.

Your head tilts back when you grab your dick with one hand, squeezing and then stroking as your gorgeous greens stare down at me through your bottom eyelashes and slightly obscured by your sharp cheekbones. I can't help it when I sit up, my eyes following the movement of your hand, up and down, tug, tug, tug, until I'm eye level with your head, and when I say head…I mean _head_.

"Please, Daddy," I moan. I beg. I reach. For you. Spreading my legs. Inviting you inside. "Take care of me. I need you so bad, Daddy."

You're weeping just like you said you would. A sticky sweet whiteness gathering at your tip, forming a single droplet, ready to fall onto your black satin sheets. I don't let it. I snatch it up with my tongue before you can tell me no, and I'm not sure if the roar you let loose is that of outrage or pleasure. Maybe it's both. Just like your gorgeous greens. So much anger. So much desire.

"Lay back, sweet girl," you say. You voice so deep, so furious. "I'm going to fuck you now."

I fall back with a flop. I can't help it. Gracefulness seems so unnecessary when your dick is finding its way to my pussy. I know you'll take care of me. In more ways than one.

I feel you now. Sliding in my wetness. Playing with all the sensitive bits down there. And then nudging at my entrance. You grab yourself. Preparing. And then your gorgeous greens meet my eyes.

"This is it, sweet girl," you say almost tortuously. Like you're in pain. I guess in a way you are. "After this, there's no turning back. Tell me you want it. One more time."

"Please, Daddy," I say, grabbing your arms and wrapping my legs around your waist, pulling you toward me, not letting you leave. "Take me. Don't stop now."

And then you're pushing and pulling. In and out. Deeper and then deeper. Sliding against my pleasure and virginity until the combination pools and disappears into your black satin bed.

Your lips kiss my stomach and then my breasts and each nipple, sliding up to my shoulder, loving that bend just before my neck where it feels so nice, kissing my lips and then whispering in my ear, "Fuck, sweet girl. You feel so good. So fucking good."

But oh my god does it hurt like all fucking hell for me. It feels like you've stuck a red-hot poker up my vagina, trying to dismember me from the inside. Like my skin is stretching and splitting, hanging on by weak tendrils of flesh before completely separating. You're cutting me in half with your fluid hips and punishing thrusts. Can't you see that? Can't you see my pain?

Of course you can. You see everything. You know everything about me. Your gorgeous greens assess, staring, contemplating, deciding. "Are you Daddy's big girl?" you say between thrusts, between breaths.

I nod my head. No matter what. I always will be. "Yes, Daddy."

"You're Daddy's big, strong girl, aren't you?" Harder and harder until the burning pain fades and only a constant ache remains.

"Yes, Daddy! Yes! I'm your big girl."

You roar into the air, tilting your head and screaming at the ceiling, before looking down at me again. "That's right! And Daddy is going to fuck you like the big girl you are."

Your hips slam against mine that it feels like my bones are shattering from the weakness I've suddenly developed. I can't keep up with you. With your pace. With the way you grab my hips and pin me down and jut in and out of my body as you groan your pleasure over and over.

I'm surprised at myself when I love it. I fucking love it. I want you to go harder. I want your dick to claim me. I want you to leave bruises. I want my muscles to ache. I want to feel this fuck tomorrow.

So I let you guide my body. Let you take your pleasure. Moan when you want me to. Squeeze when you ask. Hold you when you finally fall. And it must be good. The howl you let loose fills the darkness of the room that I'm sure the stars you see behind your eyelids burst forth and chases every shadow away.

You collapse onto me, pressing me between the black satin and your body dripping with sweat. I feel the heated wet sliding from your skin and onto mine before drying in the cool night air. And when your heaving chests slows, when your eyelids flutter, when your dick softens to the point where it slips out of me, you fall to the side, pulling me into your embrace, whispering those words I long to hear.

"I love you, sweet girl."

"I love you, Daddy."


	31. Chapter 31

**Some of you have asked. I'd say we're about halfway through...maybe. **

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Sweet kisses chase my dreams away and back into the reality of you and that is better than any dream I could ever have. You're smiling softly, this small tilt of your lips that magically stretches up to your gorgeous greens. Everything about you is soft. It's like the world has been lifted off your shoulders, and only content and happiness is left.

"Good morning, Daddy," I whisper, and that tilt? It tilts even more until it's a full-blown all-teeth smile.

"Good morning, sweet girl." You run your hand down my body, your gorgeous greens following along, taking in the marks and invisible aches. "How do you feel?"

I stretch my limbs, feeling the pain, but it's a good sort of burn. "All right."

"Do you hurt?"

You frown a bit when I say, "A little."

"I've run you a bath. You should soak before lunch."

I startle at that. "Lunch? What about breakfast?"

I wind my hands around your neck as you cradle me within your arms, standing up with ease. "I let you sleep in today. It's almost noon."

You always know how to take care of me. "Thank you, Daddy."

When I'm settled into the tub, the water steaming around me, soothing my aches, you sigh in sadness, your gorgeous greens staring down below and in between. I want to cover myself, block my body from your sorrowful view.

"Daddy?"

You shake your head with a smile before glancing up at my face. "I'm just saying goodbye to the dried blood on your thighs."

I almost want to cry. "Are you upset that I'm not a virgin anymore."

You lean down, your yummy lips pressing to my forehead. "Everything about you is perfect. I suppose, in a way, the blood represents innocence lost…in more ways than one."

I grab your hand as you reach for a washcloth. I know that look in your gorgeous greens. It was there that dreadful day as well. When my parents said we'd be moving. "Don't worry, Daddy. We might have lost what we used to have, but what we will be, what the future will bring, it will be so much better."

That fear? It still lingers. So I'll just have to show you. Love you. Until you come to realize that you and me…well, we're forever.


	32. Chapter 32

**I hate rereading posted chapters because then I see all the grammar mistakes despite my attempt at self-editing. With the length of the chapters and daily updates, betas are just out of the question, so thank you for putting up with my messiness. **

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You dry my body and brush my hair with strong fingers while I stare down at the textbook on the kitchen table. "Study hard, sweet girl. You're so close to graduating. You don't want to throw away all that hard work do you?"

I shake my head no and then instantly stop when you berate me for doing so. "No, Daddy."

"We'll put a desk in your room. That way you have a place to study for when you start homeschooling?"

I want to turn my head, but your hands stop me from doing so as you thread my hair into two braids. "Home school?"

Your hands vibrate as you nod yes vigorously. "I don't want you at that establishment anymore. Especially with that dirty boy there."

"Oh…"

Your hands stop and this time you let me turn my head and that's when I see your fearful gorgeous greens. "Is that okay?"

I quickly wrap my arms around your waist, stroking your lower back, trying to ease the shaking jittery-ness. "Of course, Daddy! Whatever you think is best. I'll do it."

You sigh, and I'm actually not too sure it's a happy sigh, before pushing me away. "Keep studying."

When you finish the second braid and flip it over my shoulder so that the tips tease my exposed nipples, you lean down and kiss my head. "Go get dressed now. I've set out an outfit…but if you don't want to wear it you can choose something else."

I shake my head, standing up, and staring at you. You avoid my eyes. "Daddy."

"We'll get you a dresser. Until then, everything is in your closet."

"Daddy!" You turn away from me and it makes me so angry that I actually stomp my foot.

"Go get dressed now, Bella."

"Daddy! Look at me!"

You jump at the demand and for a second your gorgeous greens grow dark before that lingering fear comes back. "What is it?"

"I want you to take care of me! I need you to take care me. Now…just…fucking do it already."

I storm away before I can see your reaction.


	33. Chapter 33

**Thank you to Twitter (iron_gall and guilty_cuilty) for reminding me of the "blip on a radar" phrase .**

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The outfit you've left out is purple less revealing than the pink lace but just as scandalous. I completely bypass my closet and put on the sheer satin. You need to see that I'm in this for the long-run. That I've accepted you and want what you want because, when I really admit it to myself, it's what I want too. I've never been so turned on before. Plus…I want you to take care of me. I need it.

I strain my ears, listening for shuffling through the cracked-open door. I think you want to punish me. I disrespected you. My Daddy. In fact, you should punish me, but all I'm met with is silence. You didn't follow and that simultaneously saddens and angers me.

You're hesitant, and I'm afraid you still want to send me to Aunt Sue. Just know. I won't go willingly. Now that I've had you fully, even if it was for only one night, I will fight for you…enough fight for both us until you realize I'm worth fighting for as well. That you love me enough to keep my by your side. That you want me enough to work and learn to understand what we have together. Because we're better together. Always.

The door creaks open and I smile. Took you long enough. "Hi, Bella."

Her hateful grays surprise me that I take a step back, almost falling over the bed. "Alice? What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you, and your backdoor was unlocked, so I just helped myself."

I look past her out into the hallway, expecting you to show up any minute, but you don't. And I'm afraid…afraid of what I'll do. "So you just walked into my house without knocking or asking for permission like normal people do who understand polite societal manners?

"You're a bitch."

Blink blink. "Excuse me?"

She takes a step closer, her eyebrows arching as her hand comes up to play with a gold chain around her neck. "Do you know who Jasper called when you ran out on him the other day?"

"I bet you're going to tell me, huh?"

She smirks, and the evil coming off of her is just horrendous. "Me. He called me. And then I went over to his house and we fucked. That's right, Bella. I fucked your boyfriend."

I should be angry, and I guess I am, but I can't help it when I laugh. "I guess it doesn't surprise me. You always were a horrible friend."

She doesn't care. Her smile? That horrible smile? It tells me she's not phased at all. "Your parents dying? It was the best thing that happened to me because when you dropped off the face of the planet, he came to me. He gave me this you know?" She holds up her gold chain with her pointer finger, swinging it back and forth. "Said it was because he loves me."

I shake my head. She needs to go and you need to come. "Why are you telling me all of this, Alice? It sounds like you've got Jasper. Just like you want. So what's your problem?"

She stalks forward until her nose is just inches from mine and I can see the fire dancing in her eyes. "You! You're my problem! He still feels some sort of fucked up loyalty to you. Like he can't abandon you so soon after you're parents bit it. He hasn't realized yet that you've already abandoned him." Her hateful grays sweep over my body as if she's finally realizing what I'm wearing, and for the first time, I want to cover up because of the outfit you've dressed me in. "And by the looks of this, Jasper isn't even a blip on your radar anymore."

"I want you to leave." Neutral. I go for neutral when all I really want to do is grab her by her hair and drag her out of your house…no, our house.

"You're fucking him, aren't you?"

"Get out, Alice."

"He's your godfather, Bella. Just how nasty are you?"

I grab her elbow, wrapping my shaking fingers around her arm, probably squeezing too hard. I don't care. I hope she has bruises later. "Don't talk about him that way!"

She yanks her arm, but I hold tight. "You're fucking that old man, and I'm going to tell Jasper and everyone else! I hope you suffer, Bella!"

I have no words. My vocal chords aren't working. But my ears are, and I hear her screams when all I want to hear is quiet. My hands are, and I feel her clammy skin rubbing against my palms, closer, tighter. My eyes are, and I see my fingers gripping her delicate swan-like neck, squeezing, cutting, forcing that silence I crave.


	34. Chapter 34

**If you read AN "Bleh. Boys." Sorry. Accidentally uploaded the wrong chapter last time before scrambling to fix it. If not, all's well :)**

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She's so red. Everything about her is red. From her apple cheeks to her bulging hateful grays, but now they're more fearful and that is exhilarating. This time I lean in so that my nose almost touches her. She tries to scream but she can't. I've straddled her waist and pinned her to the floor and she pushes at my body with her hips, but I'm stronger. Her hands rip at my hair, my skin, my pretty purple satin, but I don't care.

"Who am I fucking now, Alice?" I sneer, pushing my face even closer to hers, until we're almost kissing, and rubbing my panty-less crotch across her denim covered vagina and then squeezing harder. "Does it feel good, baby girl? Do you want more?"

She's a horrible person. The worst kind of friend. Her life? Far from sacred, and it should seriously end. I don't care that she called me a bitch. I don't care that she fucked Jasper. I don't care that apparently they're in love. I care about all the things she's said about you. Today. In the past. Now, I'll make sure she can never say anything again. That's her punishment.

"Isabella Swan!" I hear you. I ignore you. Just give me a few more minutes and then I'll be done. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

Your hands grab me. I fight you off and you're forced to let go, but my struggles have released my hold on Alice and she screams. It's such a disgusting sound. I reach for her neck again, but you stop me, lifting me from underneath my arms. I kick at her, hoping to get at least one good one in. I do. Her head whips back from the force of my foot.

I hope she's suffering. Bitch.

She scoots on her ass, using her hands to propel her until her back hits the wall. "You're fucking crazy!"

"I'll show you crazy! You think this is bad? You just fucking wait!"

You throw me onto the bed, blocking my way when I bounce back up and lunge. "I said stop it, Isabella!"

"Let me at her! She's an evil person! You don't even know what she said to me!"

You grab me by my chin, so I yank it away. You do it again, forcing me to look at you, and your gorgeous greens dare me. Dare me to defy you. And I know. Daddy is out to play.

"Sit your ass down. You're not to get off this bed. Do you understand me, Isabella?" So deep. So dark. I nod and do as you say.

When you're sure I'm not going to move, you turn around and walk to Alice. I bristle at you giving her even just a little bit of your time. She cringes as you near, but you don't stop, and with no warning, you reach down and lift her up to her feet.

"Are you Bella's godfather?" she asks, stuttering out her words. I can already see bruises forming around her neck. Dark purple lines in the shape of my fingers. I smile.

"Yes, and you are?"

"Alice…a friend of Bella's." I snort. Loud and clear. They both hear, but none of them acknowledge me. "I'm sorry about this. Things got a little bit out of hand."

You take her elbow into your hand and then bringing her into the safety of your arm. I hate it. So much hate. You shouldn't be standing like that with any other woman, especially her!

"That's what happens when you trespass on private property," you say and she startles, trying to pull away, but you don't let her escape. Now your arms seem more like a prison than a safety bubble and that makes me feel better. "It's raining outside. You tracked mud all over my house."

She looks down. I guess I'm not the only affected by your voice. That voice. "I'm sorry."

"I think it's time for you to go, Alice," you say, guiding her toward the door.

"Yes, sir."

Just before you both disappear around the doorway and down the hall, your gorgeous greens peek at me, hair a mess and purple satin torn, only for a brief second, but the message is clear.

Don't move.


	35. Chapter 35

**So many of you anticipate Bella's punishment. It makes me smile in a way. **

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I wish you'd have let me kill her. She's a waste of space. The air she breathes is ruined. Not that I care about him anymore, but I don't understand how Jasper can love her. She's a horrible person, and it's not about just today. She's always been a horrible person.

Pitter patter.

The ceiling is cracked. Has it always been this way? It's just a single line through the pristine plaster. That crack is like Alice. She wants to break us. She wants to end us. I would have ended her if you'd have let me…at least, I think so.

Pitter patter.

Now that the adrenaline has run its course and my heart is no longer beating in my ears, I can hear the fall of the rain you mentioned outside. It hasn't rained since my parent's funeral. Kind of like I haven't cried since before then. Is this a sign? No. The tears don't come.

Pitter patter.

Even though it's dark outside, I can still see the rain falling heavily, the dim light from my room reflecting off of the dense droplets. When did this start? Was I too busy attempting murder to have noticed? Murder. The red haze has cleared, and even though I'm not sorry for what I did, I'm glad you stopped me.

Pitter patter.

The wind picks up, howling through the night. The rain slams into my window, sounding like tiny knocks of wind chimes. It's beautiful in a way. I wish you were here with me. Holding me. Kissing me. Loving me.

Pitter patter.

I'm sorry I let her get to me. I shouldn't have. I should have been strong. You were. You always are. You never let the words of others bother you. But I can't imagine a world without you, and she was threatening that. I can already imagine what you'd say. Probably something along the lines of, "There are better way to handle things than with violence."

Pitter patter.

Deep down, past petty emotions and worries, I didn't want to kill Alice. She just made me so mad, and I'm only human. Do you see me differently now? There's no denying I'm not perfect. Will your feelings change because of this? I don't want to lose you now that I have you.

Pitter patter.

It feels as if that crack in the ceiling has extended to my heart, and it hurts. It hurts so bad. I scream. Anguished screams. Sad screams. Terrified screams. Until it sounds as if the screams are echoing all around me. From the corners of the room. From the lonely hallway. From beyond the glass window, muffled by the stormy night.


	36. Chapter 36

**Coworker and I discussed what to say to the police after you've beaten up/killed a trespasser. First: I feared for the safety of my family and myself. Second: I thought he had a gun. Boom. **

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I think the rain has stopped. I can't hear it anymore. I'd check, but it feels like too much effort to actually open my eyes and climb out of bed. I'm not sure how long I've lain here, but it feel likes forever, and you still haven't come back to me. My heart breaks more and more with every second that passes.

Wetness trails down my cheek, and for a moment, I think my tears have returned, and then, "Oh my, sweet girl. What has she done to you?"

I shake my head and sob some more. I must be dreaming. You would not be so forgiving after everything that has happened. Your hands feather down my body, touching the ripped purple satin, ghosting along the many scratches. Your hair brushes my shoulders, and then you're kissing each and every one of those horrible red welts.

"Daddy?" I whisper, almost afraid to ask.

"I'm here, baby girl. I'm here. Open your eyes. Let me see you." Your gorgeous greens are worried as your hands sweeps across the scrapes on my cheeks. "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner."

"Where were you?"

"Cleaning."

I pause and then, "Are you mad at me, Daddy?"

You shake your head, bringing me into your bubble. I lay my cheek down onto your chest, and your heart beat sooths my nerves. "No, sweet girl. Though I'm not happy with what you did."

I grab onto you tighter. "I'm so sorry, Daddy. She just made me so mad!"

"Isabella…"

"I know. It was wrong, but she said she was going to tell people. She was going to break us apart!"

Your kiss is super sweet. Gentle. Like a misty rain brushing my lips. I can't help it when my eyes close and I fall, your arms catching me within their embrace. My muscles turn into putty as you shape my body against you into what fits you best. You take the breath from my lungs, and the fight almost leaves me...almost.

You pull away. So slowly. And open your eyes even slower. "There is nothing wrong with our relationship. You're eighteen. There's nothing no one can do about it."

"Alice—"

You interrupt me. "Don't worry about that naughty girl. Her and I had a little talk. She won't say anything."

I shake my head. She would. Even if she promised. She would. "You can't believe her."

This time you shake your head. "It's done, Isabella."

"You're not listening! She'll tell people! They will talk. They won't approve."

Your hesitation is a tense silence and then your hand is slowly raising, and I almost flinch when your fingers, the lines caked with dried mud, nears my face. Instead of the punishment I was expecting, you gently lift my chin until I'm staring into your gorgeous greens.

"I'm not ashamed of you. Are you ashamed of me?"

"No! Never!"

"Then no matter what people say or how they judge us, they will never be able to break us apart."

Your gorgeous greens are so hard, so definite. I want to believe you. "Promise me, Daddy. Promise me we're together forever."

"Forever, Isabella. You always have and always will be mine."


	37. Chapter 37

**No judging...but I googled "Why do your farts follow you?" and was surprisingly educated.**

**kareedelane's review from the previous chapter may or may not have inspired the last line in this one. Squish.**

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Your whispers are soft and gentle against my skin, my hair, pulling me from beyond the turbulent and howling darkness. The sun rains in through the window, the heat warming my face. The back of my eyelids have turned a vibrant red, and yet it does little to call me back from the blackness.

"Wake up, sweet girl." Your kisses follow your whispers. "I've made breakfast. Come and eat with me."

That's enough to pull me from my slumber. Sharing anything with you is the best thing in the world. Your gorgeous greens smile down at me as I force myself awake.

"Good morning."

"Morning, Daddy."

You pull the blankets back and help me sit up. The purple satin you ripped from my body the night before and discarded onto the floor is nowhere to be seen. It is instead replaced with light blue cotton that dips low and hangs short. You hum in appreciation.

We stop by the bathroom first, where you clean my cuts, blowing on the sting. "I'm sorry, but this needs to be done."

I refuse to cry. I want to be your big girl, but I feel my resolve slowly dying. "It hurts, Daddy."

"I know. Just a few more." After you've kissed each and every one of those nasty red welts and then one more on my lips, you leave me to do my business, saying, "You have five minutes."

I don't dare take my time and am out and walking down the hallway in two. Right there. Just before the corner, where the hallway turns into the living room. Your normally pristine household is dirtied. I hate it. A reminder of last night.

It makes me want to hunt Alice down and strangle her again. She soiled your home when she trespassed, scuffed the floor with her muddy shoes, threatening to break the perfect order of your household. And who was stuck cleaning it all up? You.

"Isabella?" you call out. You're standing in the kitchen doorway, your hands on your hips, with a hard look in your gorgeous greens. "It's been more than five minutes."

I point at the wood floor. "There's mud here, Daddy."

You don't even glance down, choosing instead to march where I am and grabbing my hand. "I'll take care of it later. Breakfast is getting cold."

My feet are shuffling along the floor before I can say anything, and it makes me wonder. Does the dried mud, flaking and smeared, make you as angry with Alice as it does me? She invaded our private space. Our sanctuary. Where there's only me and you. I hope that every time it rains, she remembers what my fingers feel like wrapped around her neck.

This place. Us. We have to protect it. At all costs.


	38. Chapter 38

**Now there's this. Just because.**

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I hear you moving around the house. I'm not quite sure what you're doing, and you told me not to worry. Instead, you set my laptop and school work onto the kitchen table. Math is the last thing I want to do right now, but you refuse to give me the time of day all morning.

"I want you to be finished with this chapter by the time I'm finished cooking lunch, Isabella," you say when you finally walk back in.

I cringe. I'm only about halfway through. "What are you making?"

"Grilled cheese." You give me a pointed look. Busted.

I work fast and hard, my pencil flying across the paper so that when you place the plate of melted yumminess in front of me, I'm done. Relief. "Good job, Isabella. Let's eat."

I can't help smiling the entire time. Even though I'm sure my teeth are covered in cheese and mashed up bread. I'm just so happy to be sitting here with you. To be eating with you. I hope this feeling never fades.

When you're finished, you push your plate to the side and watch me. It should be creepy, but I like it. Your gorgeous greens on me? Looking like that? Like you're still hungry? They should be like that all the time.

"You've been such a good girl today, Isabella," you say, tapping your chin. "I think it's time to reward you."

I nod my head. Quick ups and downs. "Please, Daddy."

You tap the table. "Come and sit here."

I hesitate at first but your gorgeous greens leave no room for complaints, so I hop up with the your help. Your hands are gentle on my feet as they place each heel on the edge of the table. You don't need to ask. My legs fall open. Inviting you closer. Your chair scrapes loudly against the floor as you accept it.

I can't see it, but I just know it. You have an unhindered view of my pussy. You lick your lips. Confirmed. "Daddy?"

"Don't move, baby girl. You're so beautiful and so wet right here. Daddy is going to have a little taste, all right?"

"Yes. Please, Daddy."

You smile up at me through your lashes as your head dips down, your hands holding me still. Your tongue is so hot. So fast. Tickling until it's not ticking anymore. Until I'm moaning, trying to move my hips but unable to because of the steady grip you have on me.

"Daddy!"

I feel you smile down there. Your happiness only makes my pleasure bloom. "Sing it, sweet girl. Let me hear you."

Your tongue and then, a few seconds later, your fingers make sure I do. I sing so loud, I'm sure poor Mrs. Webber can hear next door. So loud that the table groans along with me. So loud that I can't help thrashing around in dance to its beat.

I hear the crash before I realize your plate has fallen to the floor. You don't care, so I don't either. Not that I would have had a choice because I'm falling too. And it's amazing.

"Such a naughty girl. Look at this mess you've made." You sweep aside the ceramic with your foot, slightly uncaring of the sharp shards and then wait for my heart to slow and my breathing to return by standing and pushing your pants to the ground. The cotton pulls around your ankles as you take your cock in your hand. I watch. So fascinated. So turned on. So needy.

"Do you like this, naughty girl? Do you like seeing me touch myself?" I blush and you chuckle. "It's okay. I like watching you too. Later you'll do this for me won't you?"

How could I ever deny you anything? "Yes, Daddy."

"That's my good girl." You step closer until I can feel your tip probing, asking, wanting in. I push up, and then you're tsking. "So impatient. Daddy is in control here. Understand?"

"Yes, Daddy." I nod, my body shaking with anticipation that's so hard to control. I want you faster, harder, and it's difficult not to take it, to follow, to listen. "Please! Daddy, please!"

And then you're in me with a roar. Stretching. Pushing. Harder and harder. Until your hips slam against mine and you're screaming your pleasure at the ceiling. "Does it feel good for you, baby girl? Because, by god, it feels good for me!"

You don't let me answer. You know. Somehow you always know. Maybe it's the way you're pounding, really fucking into my body. First slow and then so fast the table wobbles that I'm afraid it's going to break. When I hear my plate crash to the floor, I know it's your fault this time.

Or maybe it's the way I'm moaning. First these tiny little gasps every time your dick drives into me and then these high pitched screams that I try to temper but just can't, that soon turn into, "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck me, Daddy!"

Your spank is swift and harsh, sweeping underneath and landing on my ass. "Watch you mouth, Isabella!" And yet your dick doesn't stop its takeover of my pussy. In and out. Over and over. And now harder and even harder with each profanity that falls from my lips. "Not another word!"

I seal my mouth shut. It takes so much effort. And now with no way to release the building delight, it almost becomes unbearable. I can't handle it. I'm sure I'm about to combust at any moment. You're going to have to pick my pieces up off the floor. Death by orgasm. Who would have thought it was possible?

Because it is. I explode. Shatter. Torn apart by the stab of your dick and falling to pieces on the floor. Painful it may sound, but oh my god, is it a good kind of pain. Worth death? Most definitely.

My body is in too many pieces to know when you finally explode as well. But it's okay. I feel it later. When you collect my parts from the floor and glue me back together. When you kiss my lips sweetly and pull me to my feet. When gravity sends a combination of me and you seeping from my pussy and down my legs.

You reach, running your finger up my thigh and then bringing it to my lips. "Taste, baby girl. Taste what we did. Taste our pleasure. How is it?"

I suck on your finger like I want to suck on your dick. Soon. "Yummy, Daddy."


	39. Chapter 39

**TheRedGirl shared the perfect review, "Thanks to fanfic, I've discovered how shitty my sex life is." Isn't it like that for all of us? lol. *wink wink***

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You leave the house today. All dressed up like its Prom Night…something I'll never see. Not that I care anymore. You frown though when I say this, saying, "We'll have our own Prom Night. Here in the house."

It makes my heart so happy that you think about all these little things. I couldn't care less about them, but you do. We make a good team. We're so good together. There's no one else out there for me.

"I'll be gone most of the day. It's just a meeting with my publisher, and with the new book coming out soon, I'll have to meet with them a few more times after this too." Your worried gorgeous greens assess me as your hands hold onto my shoulders. "Will you be okay?"

I smile up at you. You're so sweet. "Don't worry about me. I have so much school work to finish."

That puts a smirk on your face. "Yes, you do. I want you to study hard even though I'm not here. No messing around. Understand?"

"Yes, Daddy."

Even still, you text me every hour. I work, impatiently waiting for those texts. Every time one pops in, I can't help but smile. I love how you take care of me. When the phone rings, I dash for my cell only to frown at the blank screen. When it rings again, I realize it's the landline, and I know it can't be you.

Cautiously I pick it up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Bella!" Rose sounds so carefree and happy on the other end. I can hear Emmett too, mumbling in the background. Huh. He's lasted a while. "How are you? It's been forever!"

I sink onto the couch, gently holding the phone to my ear and sigh. "I'm all right. Getting by. How about you?"

"Good! I'm actually really good!"

"Is that Emmett I hear?"

I can practically see her smiling through the phone. "Yeah. This one makes me really happy, Bella!"

"I'm glad to hear that." I really am. Rose has been my friend since elementary school. She brought Alice into our circle, so I'm not too happy about that, but she wouldn't have known she was psychotic.

Speaking of that bitch..."Hey, did Alice come and visit you recently?"

I pause, thinking, wondering. "Did you know about her and Jasper?"

This time she pauses. "It wasn't like that with them…until that day. It's just you were never there. We tried calling you, being there for you, but you never answered."

"So she comforted me by comforting my boyfriend?"

"He may have flirted back, but he never cheated on you! Not until…we're all just so worried about you."

I can't help sneering. I hope she can feel it in my voice. "Oh yeah. I can definitely see that."

"He loves you, Bella! You guys have been dating for so long!"

"We're not dating anymore."

"Don't say that! It'll break his heart!"

I shake my head even though she can't see it. There are so many things she can't see. You being one of them. This is the perfect excuse. "He should have thought about that before he stuck his dick in someone else while I'm trying to deal with my parent's death."

It hurts to use them, but it's necessary. I'll do anything for you. "Bella…please."

"You can tell him that, Rose."

She sighs. "So Alice told you?"

"Yes. You're my best friend. It should have come from you…or better yet, from him."

"I know. I'm sorry. I was scared. Guess that makes me selfish." She goes silent for a bit before laughing. "You beat the shit out of her, huh?"

I laugh too until we're both laughing so hard together that it actually feels kind of good. "How did you know?"

"I haven't seen her for a few days. Figured she's hiding out nursing her wounds."

That makes me incredibly joyful. "When you do see her, tell her not to trespass on my property again or she'll get something worse than a few bruises."

Rose giggles. "Look at you. Bella the Badass. I like it."

"A lot of things have changed, Rose."

"I know. Just remember. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you, okay?"

I say okay, but I don't really care. No one outside of us really matters to me anymore. Though she's special to me, you're my world. There's nothing more important than that.


	40. Chapter 40

**Friend is visiting but managed to make this happen.**

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You're so tired when you get home. You've got these dark circles under your gorgeous greens and just everything about you looks so worn out. Your suit is all wrinkled and gets even more wrinkly when you fall onto the couch, throwing your head back.

"Daddy?" I ask, crawling up next to you, nuzzling your cheek with mine. You sigh but don't move, so I try again. I want to make you feel better like you've done for me so often in the past.

"Not right now, sweet girl." Your hand comes up, and for a second I think you're going to pull me in, but you push me away. I try to pretend that it doesn't hurt, but it does, so I try again.

"Daddy?" I kiss your neck this time, running my lips up and down. Goosebumps follow in my wake so I know you're not tired enough to feel. But you refuse me again.

"Daddy is tired. Go play in your room." I whimper and drop to the floor, laying my head against your knee. Even that you push away. "Go, Isabella."

I scoot away, across the wood floor, until my back hits the wall opposite of you, and lay my chin on my bent knees. I'd rather watch you sulk than sit alone in my room. You don't acknowledge me, and I think at some point you fall asleep.

And even though your hair is all oily and flat and your suit is creased in places where it shouldn't be creased, you still look so good. I like how it all sits on your body, hugging your shoulders, stretching across your chest, showcasing your flat tummy, all of it, just right.

I lick my lips, feeling my pussy leak onto the floor. I shouldn't. You're so tired. You don't want to do fun sexy times. But I can't help my body's reaction to you. You've always done this to me. Ever since I was old enough to know and understand, just the sight of you turned me on so spectacularly.

That hasn't changed, so I can't help it when my knees fall open. I try to stop my fingers from traveling down my body and touching my aching pussy, but as soon as I feel my warm wet heat, I just know I'm a goner.

I glue my lips shut as I slide my fingers through my wet happiness, a vain attempt at muffling my growing moans. My fingers are too small, too smooth, to be as anywhere as good as yours, but they'll just have to do. Following the lines of your strong jaw, the scruff on your face, and the row of buttons down your body is enough to keep me satisfied anyway.

Your gorgeous greens don't open, and it's getting harder and harder to hide my pleasure from you. I'm so wet, and the slosh, slosh sounds my fingers are making are so loud I can't believe you haven't noticed yet.

It's when your nose starts twitching and your fists start clenching that I know you've caught on. Even I can smell myself but don't worry. It's all for you. You come to so slowly. Your hands stretch, your palms running up and down your thighs. Your gorgeous greens slowly slide open, followed by the crawling tilt of your head until your view of me is unhindered. Your pink, pink tongue peeks out, licking a wet line across your plump lips. You don't seem angry, and you definitely don't seem like you want to push me away.

"Has Daddy been neglecting you for too long, baby girl? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" Your voice is so deep, so dark. You want to play, so I nod my head vigorously hoping for an invitation. "Are you very hungry?"

I whimper. "Yes, Daddy."

The smirk that crawls across your face is so devious that I know you've given in. Your hands wastes no time in sliding up to your belt buckle and button, undoing all of it, until your pants are falling open.

"Well come here then and suck on Daddy's cock. Let me fill up your hungry belly."

I can see your dick pushing up against the fabric of your underwear, fighting for freedom, as I crawl toward you. The wood is hard on my knees, but I don't even feel the pain. Your needy gorgeous greens are calling too loudly to me.

When I'm close enough, I slither up your body until your knees part, and I'm settled in between. You lift your hips and let me slide everything down just far enough for your dick to pop free. The bulbous purple head waves a hello to me, weeping in satisfaction.

When my lips settle over your silky soft skin and my mouth tastes you directly for the first time, you finally touch me, tangling your thick fingers in my messy hair, knotting it even more with the way you're gripping and pulling, tugging my head to exactly how you want it.

I follow your lead, sucking and licking and tasting as you pull and push and tug to your satisfaction…and it's to mine too. The sounds you're making, the way your muscles clench, the way your dick sheds its happiness as we move faster, harder, deeper in tandem, feels just as good to me as it does to you.

"Fuck, sweet girl." You moan. I look up at you through my lashes. Your gorgeous greens are narrowed on my lips wrapped so tightly around your dick. "You feel so hot, so good. Just like that. Suck me just like that."

You moan louder, thrust faster, work my head harder, and when you're close, when you're almost ready to feed me, you say, "Deeper. Take me deeper, baby girl."

So I do. At least I try, but you grunt, and it's more out of frustration than pleasure, and then you're yelling, "Deeper!"

Your hands push my head until I'm swallowing you, but it's so hard to get your big dick down my throat. I gag, trying to pull away, trying to clear my airways, but you hold me there, pumping your hips, thrusting your dick in and out, until you're coming, shooting your load down my throat.

"Fuck! That's it, sweet girl. Right there." Your hands are steady in their hold as I struggle to take all of what you give me. "Don't spill a drop. Swallow it all."

I can feel your happy smile in the way your thumbs caress my chin when I do as you ask before you pull my mouth off you and tug until my straddling your body, one knee on either side of your thighs.

"That's my girl. You make Daddy so happy," you say, petting my hair.

I whimper my happiness against your neck, rubbing my so wet vagina against your softening dick, begging, hoping. "Please, Daddy. Please."

You chuckle before slipping one and then two fingers into my pussy. "Is my baby girl needy? So greedy. You want more don't you?"

I'm moaning. Your fingers feel so good digging in so deep, but then you stop when I don't answer. It hurts. It actually hurts. "Yes, Daddy! Please! I want to come so bad!"

"Go ahead then, sweet girl. Take your pleasure like I just did. Ride my fingers until you see stars."

I'm hesitant at first. Moving up and down so slowly, so unsure, so new at taking such a dominant role, but then my carnal nature takes over and I'm bouncing so hard, so fast, that I can hear the soft slaps of skin against skin where I hit your hand after each slam down.

And you watch. Your gorgeous greens take all of me in. From my thrown back head to my jumping breasts. From my whimpering lips to my clenching thighs. From my sweaty endeavor to my glistening pussy. And you see. You see when I finally meet those stars. So bright. So beautiful. So dazzling. I can't breathe. My heart has stopped. The pleasure has killed me. It was that good. And then your arms bring me back into that bubble, reviving me, loving me. Making everything in my world so right, so perfect.


	41. Chapter 41

**Here's this dude again.**

* * *

You're leaving again for another one of your meetings. I can't wait for this book to be published so that you don't have to divide your time. I'm selfish like that. Even so, I don't dare ask you to stay. I can be petulant, but I do know my place.

Your kiss goodbye leaves us both breathless, and for a second, I think you're going to push me against the wall and then fuck me breathless. But you don't. And that's a huge disappointment to both of us. Your metallic watch, glittering in the white light, gets in the way. Your gorgeous greens catch the time, and you release me with a sigh.

With your forehead pressed to mine, you whisper, "Tonight, sweet girl. When I get back, you're mine."

I can only nod my head, already anticipating your return when you haven't even walked through the door yet. You glance quickly down, your gorgeous greens staring so intensely at my bare legs and exposed midriff. I can see the battle within your gaze as you fight the urge to stay. You push away, rougher than what you intend, mumbling a quick goodbye as you bolt out the front door.

I stand in that archway, watching as you drive away, as you do with me. I don't venture into the street as I'm sure you don't want the neighbors seeing my scantily clad body, but I do watch for as long as I can, and only turn to go back inside once your rear lights have vanished from beyond the horizon.

It's just as I shut the door and settle at the kitchen table to start my school work that I hear a knock, knock, knock, and I think it's you coming back to finish what you've started, what I was begging for, what my dripping pussy aches for. I rush, running, too excited, too turned on for caution.

That is my mistake.

I throw open the door without even realizing that you wouldn't be knocking. Instead, it's Jasper's face that greets me. His mellow blues that appraise me. His shock that triggers my shock.

"Bella?" It's like he's not sure if I'm standing in front of him. I guess I can't blame him. Besides that one day I completely freaked out on him, he hasn't seen me in so little, so revealing. And in my tiny yellow shorts and silky midriff top that barely hangs past my breasts, he can see a lot.

"Jasper. What are you doing here?"

He groans, his mellow blues growing dark. I know that look. You give it to me so often, turning me on with a single glance, but with Jasper, it scares me. I don't want it. I can't have it. Not when you could come back any second.

"Fuck, babe," he says. "Did Rose call you? Did she tell you I was coming? Are you dressed like this for me?"

And then he's pushing me back. Kicking the door shut. Through the foyer. Hands grabbing. Touching. Kissing. Sucking. Until I'm falling over the arm of the couch, tumbling onto the cushions with him not so far behind. He falls on me with a heavy thump, his lips attaching themselves to my skin.

For a moment, it feels so good. My body, still so high off of your touch, can't help but react. So I part my legs, pulling him in deeper until he's grinding against that wet, wet center as his hands easily sweep up my so-short top, brushing and then squeezing my nipples, my breasts.

"You feel so good. I'm so sorry. I love you so much."

Only for a moment because then that's all it takes, just another single moment, for my brain to catch up, to see blond instead of bronze, to see blue instead of green, to see bone instead of muscle. To know that it's Jasper touching, kissing, loving, and not you.

Only a moment to reject. To push. To scream.


	42. Chapter 42

**The end of that?**

* * *

Jasper jumps back like I've shot him, and with the way I'm screaming, like a banshee on a rampage, I might as well have. He seems so fearful, so hurt, his mellow blues so wide I'm afraid his eyeballs might actually fall out. And with the way he tumbles off the couch and onto the floor, so hard, it has to be painful.

"Jesus! What the fuck, Bella?!" He's on his feet fast, jumping back so that he's a good distance away from me, protecting himself, like I'll reach out and cause bodily harm at any moment. Like I'm that unpredictable. Like I'm that vicious.

"You just can't do that!" I scream back, running around the couch, using it as a barrier between him and me. "Not after everything that's happened!" If he only knew.

"I thought—"

"What? That I've forgiven you after you fucked my best friend?"

He kind of looks like a fish with the way his mouth keeps opening and closing. "But…you're wearing…" He shakes his head as if he's shaking that thought out and then, "You didn't know I was coming?"

"No! You just popped up out of nowhere!" I'm yelling, waving my arms around, and I'm sure body parts are being exposed, but between the two of us, we both don't really care. "Why are you even here?"

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, his mellow blues so calculating, taking in his surroundings, piecing things together. What you've dressed me in. My school work on the table. My panties from this morning in the corner. The real question is, did he get the correct answer?

"I talked to Rose. She told me you knew," he starts out, whispering, staring at the floor, shifting from foot to foot. "I wanted to talk to you. To explain. To ask for a second chance. I love you so much. We can't be over."

I shake my head, giving him a hard glare. "You should have thought about that before you stuck your dick in Alice."

He takes a step closer, shaking his head. "It was a mistake. I know it's been tough. I tried to be there for you, but you kept pushing me away, and then that day and what we did before you just ran away. It was hard for me too!"

I snort. "Yeah, so fucking hard. You didn't get off so you called Alice to help you out."

He rushes forward, reaching out, grabbing my shoulders, holding on by his fingertips. It's easy to escape him, but he follows until he's hanging over the back of the couch, calling out my name.

"Bella, please! I'm so sorry!"

I slap at his outstretched fingers, happy to see him wince at the attack. "There's no point. We're over, Jasper."

"No! Please no! Give me a second chance! I love you!" He's crying these big fat tears, rolling down his cheeks, dripping onto the cushions where you and I have found so much pleasure, so much love. He's tainting it, and I hate it, hate him, so much.

I don't relent. I stay strong. It's not that hard. It's actually really easy. His tears, those I can't even produce anymore, affects me in no way. His pathetic sobs make me laugh. The way he hunches over in desperation, in humiliation, explodes my heart with joy.

"Go away, Jasper. At least leave here with a little bit of dignity." I don't tell him, but it's too late for that. It doesn't matter anyway. He already knows. There's nothing left he can lose. Not when it comes to me.

"Babe. Please. I'm not giving up. I love you too much," he says, staring, begging, pleading.

I don't hesitate. "That's too bad because I don't love you anymore."

For a second, I think a dying cat has somehow gotten into the house before I realize it's him. Burying his face in his hands. Crawling around the couch, approaching me on his knees, pressing his lips to my feet.

"Don't say that. You're just angry. What we have? It's forever. You and me, remember?"

I'm getting tired, and I'm hoping you'll be back soon. I'm not exactly sure how long he's been here, but it seems like forever. I need to speed this along. I don't want you to catch him here. To ruin our night. You said I'm yours when you get back, and I expect a good fucking as part of that.

"There's someone else."

His crying stops for only a second as his brain registers my words, and then he's sobbing even louder, messier than before. "What? Who?"

"It doesn't matter."

"You're right!" He nods his head, just a tiny spark of hope gleaming in his mellow blues. "It doesn't matter! Whoever you're with, whatever you've done, I don't care. We can get over this. I haven't even see Alice. She doesn't come around anymore!"

Just hearing her name makes me see red. I hate everything about her. "You don't get it! I don't give a flying fuck about you or Alice. Now get the fuck out of my house!"

His pleas turn into shouts of pain. My nails feel good going down his skin, across his cheek, slashing his neck, pulling his hair. His fight turns into a retreat right out the front door. I slam it in his face, garbling his shouted words.

"I'm not giving—"

I don't care.


	43. Chapter 43

**You didn't think it was over...did you?**

* * *

When you get home, everything that happened with Jasper is quickly pushed from my mind. I didn't even remember he was there. In fact, Jasper who? You do this to me, and I think you even enjoy it.

Your lips are so soft, so wet on my neck as you breathe your way down. Your hands tickle my tummy, but only in that really good sort of way. Barely there finger tips, tracing the soft lines of muscle. Playing with the ruffled yellow silk.

When you dip your head, your tongue comes out, leaving wet trails of desire across my skin. The night air is already cool, but with you, claiming me with your mouth, leaving me trembling, you make it even colder. In a good way. Always in a good way.

It's when your hand dips into my shorts, pressing against the only heated wetness in the room, swirling and dipping until your fingers are just as wet, when I'm on the brink of madness, desperately calling, asking, begging for you to let me go. That's when the phone rings.

We both pause. Coming out of this world of pleasure is so difficult for the both of us, and your reactions are so priceless. Your body is frozen, and yet if anyone should look close enough, they'd see the minute tremble of your limbs as you fight against what comes so natural. I can see your brain calculating the pros and cons of stopping or continuing, and it's obvious when you decide as your gorgeous greens come back to life.

Your hand slips from my shorts, and I groan in disappointment. I was so close. You know this, and this prolonging, this teasing, this torture, makes you smile and laugh to yourself.

Your fingers leave wet streaks across the cordless as you answer with a chuckle. "Hello?"

It's like someone blew the lights out in the room. That's how fast your gorgeous greens dim as they dip down to me. "I'm sorry. She's not home at the moment," you say, and that's when I hear it…him.

I can't understand the words he's saying, but I recognize his shouts as he screams from the other side. Your gorgeous greens grow dark and then angry as you pull away from me.

"You were here?" you ask this, spitting poison from your lips, daring me to move when I go to run. "When?"

"You did what?" Your fingers clench so tightly around the phone that I'm afraid the plastic will crack.

And then you're laughing, but it's not out of fun. You sound so evil, so malicious. "You think I'd do that for you?"

His shouting dies down, but he's still talking. You are listening so attentively. Soaking in every word being spoken. I wish he would just shut the hell up.

You wait until he's finished and then pause, waiting, listening to his pathetic breathing, and then, "I'm going to hang up now. If you call this house again, I will personally hunt you down and make you regret it. Stay away. Leave us alone."

You hang up so violently, throwing the phone so that it shatters against the wall. I can't help but jump when you turn to me. "That boy just called, Isabella, and he had some interesting things to say to me."

"Daddy?" I ask so hesitant, so cautious.

"When were you going to tell me he was here?"

I inch away until I'm trapped between the armrest and your terrifying gorgeous greens. I whimper, crying, wanting those sweet, sweet kisses instead of this. Anything but this.


	44. Chapter 44

**Your reactions have me smiling so hard.**

* * *

You are a combination of things. I'm not sure where to start. If I had to pick one, I'd say red. The same color as when I attempted to end Alice. But in a completely different way. You're the red of fire. Steaming. Hot. Angry.

I've never seen you so angry before, and it's so terrifying that I can't move. I'm rooted to the stop. Watching as you stalk closer until your inches from me. Glaring. Enraged. On fire.

"Why didn't you tell me that boy was here, Isabella?"

I open my mouth, but nothing comes, so I quickly close, lick my lips, and try again. "I—I'm sorry. I forgot."

The excuse sounds weak to even my ears. You pause, and it's the most frightening moments of my life. "You forgot? Little girls simply do not forget to tell their daddy when their boyfriend stops by for a visit."

I jerk at that as if you've struck me. Right across the face. Your hand lays at your side, but my cheek still burns. "He's not my boyfriend!"

You step closer, until you're only inches away, until I'm staring straight into your dark gorgeous greens with nowhere else to turn. "And what exactly did you and your non-boyfriend do?"

There's only one way to go, so I throw myself at you. Hanging on to your shirt. Pulling so hard I'm afraid the buttons will pop. "We talked! I told him it was over! I broke his heart. I kicked him out! I swear!"

You wrap your arms around me, and it almost feels intimate, sexy, cuddly, but the raging heat coming off of your body tells me otherwise. "Talking, you say? Because he mentioned a kiss. He touched you, Isabella! He touched what was mine!"

I shake my head. Pleading. Begging. Needing you to understand. "He did! But I pushed him away! I didn't want it! I don't want him! I only want you!"

You take a step backwards. Another. And then one more. Three long steps that have me scurrying to keep up. Pulling me. Forcing me along. "He touched you! I can see it! In my mind! His hands all over your body!" You close your eyes, shaking your head as if it would help dispel the images. Your roar tells me it is a failure. They are still there. Haunting you. Hurting you.

I sob, rubbing my dry cheeks against your heart. Feeling your muscle beneath my body. Your strong shoulders. Your lean hips. Your straining dick. Still so needy despite all the red.

"I thought he was you. Coming back. To fuck me against the wall."

You chuckle, but it's so far from carefree. "Oh, Isabella. That's exactly what I would be doing now if you hadn't been such a naughty girl."

You're breathing hard. Your words so breathless as you spew your rage from your lips. Your hands so powerful as you push me over the back of the couch. I fight you. Twisting from your fingers. But you hold strong until I'm bent over, gripping the seat cushions for balance.

I know what's coming. I know no matter how hard I fight, there's no stopping it. No dodging it. I will receive your punishment.

"And what do naughty girls get? Spankings."


	45. Chapter 45

**On Buzzfeed, my sex number is 69 out of 200. That's why I write. *wink wink***

* * *

It's hard to breathe. The back of the couch is cutting so deeply into my abdomen, partly from me pressing into it, trying to escape your punishment, and partly from you pressing me down, holding my hips, sliding my tiny shorts down my legs.

They're so loose, so ruffled, that they fall easily, wrapping around my ankles, keeping them locked together within the silkiness, preventing me from running. And despite having my ass hanging out, despite knowing what is coming, I wouldn't want to run. Not from you. Never from you.

Your hand rubs across my bare skin. Starting at the small of my back and traveling down, over my meatiness, where you draw circles as if you're visualizing a target, planning on where to strike. You probably really are. You're that calculated. That precise.

I sob, begging, pleading for forgiveness. "Daddy, please! I fought him. I made him bleed. I didn't want his touch. Only yours."

You freeze, your hand a heated fire against my ass, pressing down on my flesh, foreshadowing what is to come. "You don't get it, do you, Isabella? I don't care if you stabbed him through the heart with a kitchen knife. You were touched, fondled, caressed, by someone who wasn't me!"

"I'm sorry! Daddy! I'm so sorry!"

There's this pause, where I can only hear my soft pants and your rage-hardened breathing, and then, "I know, Isabella. I know you are."

There's no warning. No hesitation. Just the swirl of the air as your hand lifts from my skin only to come thundering down again. The sound that follows it, of skin against skin, of your fury against my supple, is the only thing that comes before my wail of pain.

You hit so hard with your open palm that I'm sure your skin has to be stinging too. And then another one. Followed closely by one more. I can't help it when I scream into the cushions, uncaring when my saliva drops from my mouth, staining the fabric with an almost perfect circle.

Pain. "You are mine!"

Unbearable. "You have always been mine!"

Pain. "No boy will get in between us!"

And that's when I hear it. Over my screams, begging for mercy. Over your spanks so harsh and passionate. Your belt buckle hitting the floor. Smacking the wood with a metallic clank.

And then you're thrusting. Slapping your hips against too-tender flesh so ferocious that I'm not sure if your dick in me feels good or not. Your body is just as unrelenting as your palm. Thrusting. Thrusting. Thrusting. Harder and harder. Bruising my already bruised flesh.

"Only I get to fuck you like this!"

You fingers grip my hips, pressing into bone, forcing my back to arch when I bow at the intrusion of you hitting so deep, so big in a such a little space. And you only seem to grow as your wrath, your desire, grows. Slamming so violent. So powerful. Raising over and engulfing. Bringing me into your world. Your pleasure.

"Only I get to hear you moan like this!"

Yes. I'm moaning. Even though you've brutally taken over my body, it, my pussy, still knows what it likes. And that's you. All forms of you. Soft and sweet to savage and fierce.

"Who gets you like this? Answer me, Isabella!"

I scream, shout. There's so much pressure inside of me that's all I can do. "You! Only you! My Daddy!"

Your hands grab me. One against my breast. The other cupping my puss. Pulling me up. Until my back is against your chest. I can feel the effort your body puts into thrusting your dick as you stake your claim. Shoving. Pushing. Driving forward with so much determination as if you have something to prove. Maybe you do.

"This is mine! All of this is mine! Say it!"

"Yours! Everything of me is yours!"

You come so hard inside of me that even your ejaculation is punishing, hitting so aggressively where I'm so tender, so sensitive. And then I'm coming, just as hard, just as vicious. Where there's so much pent up strain releasing that I can't see or hear or feel anything else.

That's why I almost missed it. Almost. But I didn't. Because in my delirium, when you literally shoved into my system and rocked my entire world, when I was cut off from reality for those few precious seconds, you've wrapped your arms, bringing me into the bubble, burying your face between my shoulder blades, wetting my skin with your tears, sobbing. So much sobbing. So much heartbreak.

"I love you so much. I can't lose you. I won't lose you. I'll kill anyone who tries to take you away from me."


	46. Chapter 46

**Kni Nut described the last chapter perfectly with one word: sweet. Lol.**

* * *

You're so tender when you pick me up. A complete contrast from seconds ago. Your arms cradle me close to your body. One wrapped around my back. The other hooked under my knees. I hide my face in your neck, breathing in your scent, not caring where you take me.

Your heartbeat, so close to ear, lulls me into a sort of conscious sleep, so relaxed, despite the pain that still reminds me of your palm on my ass, that I jerk when you gently place me into the bathtub. The cold surface jolts me from whatever sleep I may have been in, and I frantically search for you, relieved when you sit on the floor after fiddling around with the dials, so close and yet still much too far away.

The water slowly rises, covering each of my parts one by one. Saying goodbye first to my legs and then toes. Followed closely by my bellybutton and then each breast before topping off at my shoulders. The heat soothes my frazzled nerves and marked skin while the bubbles you've poured in creates a sort of barrier from the outside world. Except for my head. My Achilles heal. It should be my heart that is exposed because that's where you could do the most damage no matter what.

As if my heart feels the maybe-agony, it beats harder, rushing the blood through my veins, pounding its sorrow in my chest. I clutch at the horror. Of you hating. Of you loving another. Of you leaving. Breaking not just my heart, but of everything that has to do with me. I would die. I just know it.

I lift from the tub, aching to cool the heated torment from my body, but you push me down. "It hurts! Daddy, it hurts so bad!"

Your fingers tickle my cheeks as you slide your hand down, tracing little swirls across my skin until you reach just above where the pain resides. "There, there, sweet girl. Daddy will make it all better."

You turn. Standing from the tub. Facing your gorgeous greens opposite of where I sit. How is this better? How does this comfort? You turning from me. When all I want is to be in your embrace. Your love.

At your retreat, I scramble for your arm, holding onto your flesh with desperate fingers, dripping water on the tiled floor, hoping my voice can properly convey just exactly what I'm feeling. "Daddy?"

You shush me with a finger to my lips, smoothing the hair from my face, and coaxing me to lie back, ignoring when the wet floor soaks through your black slacks. "Let me take care of you."

Relief. Happiness. So much love. All these feelings coursing through my body, overcoming the pain until there's none left. Just good stuff filling me to the brim that I feel like I'm about to explode. Cast them out. Shower them upon you and me and every other living being in this world so that there is no hesitation, no confusion. Only you. My Daddy. Taking care of me. His little girl.

Finally.


	47. Chapter 47

**I just watched Blue Lagoon and then Blue Lagoon: The Awakening on fast forward...yeah. **

* * *

Your bed is soft and warm. Much better than the one in my room. I'm not sure if that is because it's more expensive or if it is because it's yours. I'm guessing anything of yours will make me happy at this point. I think you know that too.

Instead of one of the more scantily clad pieces you've added to my wardrobe, you dress me in one of your old college shirts. The collar is frayed, and I'm actually surprised it has survived over the years, but it's comfortable and smells exactly like you. Spicy and strong.

I smile up at you. "Thank you, Daddy."

Your kiss is tender on my forehead. "Don't you know I'd do anything for you, sweet girl."

Laying back on your pillows, scrunching my eyebrows, I know this now. Even still, it's hard to believe that you do sometimes. "I love the way you take care of me. You always know exactly what to do. It's just…why me? I'm no one special."

You shake your head while pulling me even tighter into your arms. "Don't say that. You've always been special. Since the day you were born and your parents brought you home."

It's so hard understanding this. What we have. But we said we'd work out it together. "Is that how you see me? Like a daughter?"

You chuckle, the one that I love so much. "No. If I did I wouldn't do half of the stuff to you that I do."

I can't help but laugh at that. "I suppose not."

You're silent for a moment, your gorgeous greens thinking so hard, before, "I will admit that it is different though. Even when you were younger, I always wanted to take care of you. I got into so many horrible fights with your parents about how they handled things."

"Really? I never knew."

You give me one of those looks. "You wouldn't, would you? Some things that go on between mommy and daddies aren't meant to be known by their little girls."

I nod. "Well, since I knew I could, I've always loved you."

"Your love was a beautiful thing, and I reveled in it as often as I could, and when you handed me that love letter when you were just that shy ten-year-old girl, you had my heart then as well, even if I didn't know it."

I was so young, and yet I owned you even way back then. How did I not see it over the years? Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't understand. Maybe I wasn't supposed to until now.

"When did you realize?"

You lay back, bringing me so that my head rests on your chest, your heartbeat in my ear. "The first hint was when you went on your first date. I thought I was acting like other dads, and your father joked so many times on how I was more protective over you than he was, but that feeling…it was different than his. I was jealous. I hated that boy. I hated all the boys you dated, and there were so many."

I tuck me head in and whisper in a small voice. "There weren't that many."

Your head lifts long enough for you to place a kiss on mine. "Even one is too many, Isabella."

Your life seems so lonely to me now. After all these years, you lived in this big house all by yourself. No wife or children to call your own. No other women that I knew of…then again, even if there were others that warmed your bed I probably wouldn't know about them, but they aren't here now and that's all that matters to me.

"Do you love me because you and Jessica weren't able to have children?"

Your sigh is troubled, rough, as it leaves your lips. "I wasn't blessed with little ones before Jessica's surprise death, and I guess in a way, I loved you like my own because of that."

You were such a beautiful couple. Everyone always said so. Always talked about how your children would be beautiful as well. It was a sad time when she died just before my eleventh birthday. Remember that I didn't celebrate that year. I couldn't.

"Would we be together now if she hadn't died?"

"Don't think of it that way," you say, pinching my side softly. "Everything happens for a reason. Maybe her death is what brought us together."

I pause and then a question that's been haunting me for some time now comes out. "Were you with her like you are with me?"

You kiss is unexpected, strong and determined as you push me onto my back, controlling my head, no chance for escape. Not that I would want to for many reasons and one of them being is the passion. I can feel it wherever your skin is on my mine, and it's so powerful, so bright, that it leaves me breathless, wanting more. Always more, but you pull away.

"I've loved no one like I love you. Treated no one like I treat you. You're my life now and have been for a long time."


	48. Chapter 48

**Shorter than the normal-short chapter this morning. Don't feel so well. Ugh. Maybe another update later.**

* * *

Despite the warmth we've created in your bed, both through simple cuddling and all the sex, you have to leave…again. I entice you to stay, using my body in ways I've only been comfortable around you, showing it, hiding, teasing it in order to tease you.

You smirk that stupid sexy one side lip lift, watching with dark gorgeous greens, wandering over every curve, bend, and fault, licking those perfectly plump, delicious lips, while buttoning up your shirt, pulling up your pants, hiding that so-muscled and strong body from my view.

You kiss me, whispering against my lips, "It's a short meeting today. I will hurry back to you as fast as I can."

I look up, through heavy lashes, panting from your victory over my mouth. "You do that. I need my daddy so, so bad."

It's a struggle for you to leave, holding onto the front door with your fingertips, stopping yourself from coming back to me. It's funny in a way. How much you hunger for me. How much you want me that it's physical pain to just leave. Never mind. Scratch that. I know exactly how you feel, and it's no fun at all.

It happens again. Just when I sit down to do my school. I hear a knock, knock on the door. I'm way more cautious this time, creeping toward the door so slowly. I jump when that same knock, knock sounds again.

"Isabella? Are you in there?" That's not Jasper's voice. I stop in my tracks. Waiting. Listening.

"Isabella! It's Aunt Sue! Open up!" Red. So much red.

I don't want to open the door. This is the woman that threatened to take me away. She's family, my mother's sister, and yet I hate her so much. I don't want to see her. I'm afraid of what I'll do.

I don't get a choice. The rattling of keys is my only warning before the door is thrust open and she's there, standing in the doorway, casting her shadow across the floor, her dark eyes seeking me out and then lighting up when they accomplish that.

"There you are!"


	49. Chapter 49

**Here's this...**

* * *

Her eyes are so dark, so terrifying, only promising horrible things. She stands there, with her hands on her hips, her feet shoulder-length apart, owning the doorway, unafraid of anything, of anyone. Nothing good can come out of her being here. I just know it.

"What are you doing?" she asks…no, demands. She's not weak. Such the exact opposite of that bitch. I don't know if I can take her. "Didn't you hear me knocking?"

I stutter, unable to form full words. Out of anger? Probably. Out of fear? Most definitely. "Y—yes."

Her eyebrow cocks, waiting, listening, and when I don't answer her scary darks darken even more. "Why didn't you answer then?"

"I—I don't know."

She sighs, her breath laced with impatience. "Really, Isabella? Is this what months of living with that man has turned you into? This bumbling idiot?"

I shake my head, taking small steps back from her. She doesn't even notice. That confident in her ability to destroy me, us, our world. Because I know that's why she's here. Her attitude, the way she holds herself and shakes her head as she peruses the room, grimacing in disgust at what she sees.

"I can't believe I let you live here this long." She holds herself closer to her body as if afraid to touch anything in the room, as if horrified by everything around her. "I can't believe how anyone could live in here this long."

I can't help it when I glance around. Nothing is out of ordinary or out of place. You've always kept a clean household and that's no exception now. She brushes her finger across the couch before wiping it across her leg. I snicker. In that case, it might actually be dirty considering how many times we've fucked there.

"How did you get in, Aunt Sue? Why do you have a key?" She laughs at the way I hold myself. As if my sudden show of courage is funny, hilarious, a joke. As if she knows I'm not a threat.

She twirls a keychain around her finger. The four or so keys jingle in response. "With this."

I purse my lips. "Why do you have a key to this house?"

She glares at me. Angry that I've already taken up so much of her time. "They were your fathers. Now they're mine."

She's so close I can smell her perfume. It makes me dizzy and I sway on my feet, using the wall to catch myself. "What? That makes no sense. Why would you have them?"

Her fingertips assess your old college shirt and the way it hangs off my frame, baring my legs to anyone, to her. Her scary darks judge. I can feel their judgement. Radiating off her being, hitting me full force.

"It doesn't matter." She pushes me. Just a little shove in the direction of the hallway, but enough to make me stumble. "Well, go pack already."

The makes me glance sharply at her. "What?"

She sighs, this heavy release of breath. "I don't have all day, Isabella. Get your stuff so we can go."

I plant my feet, feeling a bit of myself return. "No."

He scary darks look at me so harshly that I can't help but bend under their pressure. "What did you say?"

My voice is less convicted as it was the first time, but my choice is still the same. "I'm not leaving."

She grabs my arm, right above my elbow, her spidery fingers clawing at my flesh. "I said to get your shit! Now do it!"

I yank, but she doesn't relent, digging deeper, scoring my skin. "You can't make me!"

She's angry, her face distorting into something so ugly it makes her almost unrecognizable. "Why would you want to live here?"

The answer seems so obvious to me, it's still a surprise when I have to explain it to her, to anyone. "Because I love him!"

Everything goes silent with the exception of my heavy breathing as I exhale all of the anger, all of the desperation, all of my love for you. Now she knows. Now she can't make me.

"Why would you? Don't you know, Isabella? He killed your parents."


	50. Chapter 50

**I love twisting your insides around. Evil laugh.**

* * *

The tickle crawls through me, starting from my toes and working its way up. My legs jitter to a dance, my feet tapping along as it spreads through my body, causing wildfire in my tummy and twirling in my arms, bubbling up through my throat and out my mouth. Laughter. So loud and joyous. Because…really?

Aunt Sue doesn't understand. Her scary darks are flashing, but I can't seem to stop. "What are you going on about?"

"Come on. Seriously? He killed them? What's that?"

Even the horrendously evil smirk that crawls across her lips can't do me in. Of all the ridiculous things to say. "You don't believe me?"

Snort. "No!"

"I feel sorry for you," she says, stepping closer, an inch at a time, until those scaries are so close to mine. "In love with a murderer."

This time I push her back, and it isn't a little shove. She stumbles, caught by knuckles on the wood floor. "Stop telling your lies!"

She stands back up to her full height, dark and dangerous, clenched fists and snarling face. "Of all the bad things I've done, this isn't one of them. I'm not lying, Isabella."

I point to the door, one angry finger in the direction she needs to head. "Take your shit somewhere else. Now get the fuck out!"

"Think about it real hard." She looks at me like I'm the dumbest person on the planet, speaking slow, enunciating each word. "Where were your parents headed when they died?"

"Why does that matter?"

"To him!" she spits, literally. Saliva fires from her mouth as she screams in my direction. "He said it was an emergency! They raced the highway to him! They died because of him!"

These big fat tears fall from those scary darks, melting away her carefully applied makeup until I can see the anguish underneath. The grieving. The sadness. The anger.

"Aunt Sue…"

"Don't you Aunt Sue me. He's a monster and you'd rather live here with him."

"He's not…" I say, creeping closer, my hand raised. I mean only to comfort her, but she shrugs me off before I can even touch her. "It's not his fault."

"It is! They were going to stay the night, and then he calls and they come speeding down and end up burning in their own flames."

"Please…Aunt Sue…"

"You don't know what I lost, Isabella! So much more than just my sister." She falls to her knees, her black stockings ripping against the impact, the tear traveling up the length of her thigh.

My hands waver just above her skin. I had you. Who did she have? "Come on. Let me get you a drink."

Her head whips up, her tears slowly following but are unable to catch up, falling to the ground in heavy drops. "I don't want anything from him!"

She stands, pushing me, her spidery hand against my chest, until my ass hits the floor and she's running down the hallway. "Come back! What are you doing?"

Her voice echoes from down the hallway. "I couldn't save him! But I'll save you!"

I follow, my feet pounding against the wood, working hard to catch up, and when I slam the door to my room open, I startle. It's empty. The dark bleakness untouched by her desperation. That's when I hear the crash. Shattered glass coming from your room.

Your dresser mirror lays in pieces on your floor as she upturns all of your drawers, throwing clothes around, making a disaster of everything. I tiptoe past the shards, wincing when I misjudge, leaving bloody footprints in my path.

"What are you doing?!" I yell, grabbing at her infuriated hands.

"He destroyed my life! I will destroy his!" Your top dresser drawer is flung against the wall where it splinters into pieces.

"Oh my god! You've gone crazy!" I can't help it. Fueling her ire. Something needs to be said and that's what comes out.

She stops. Her fingers clutching onto their latest victim, the contents fighting from spilling out. "Crazy? I'll show you crazy!"

I have no warning, no chance of escape before the wood fractures against my body, its insides wrapping around my flailing limbs as I'm sent flying to the ground. I see it. For just a second. Sparkling gold wrapped around my big toe. And then pain. So much pain as she drags me back down the hallway, clutching onto my hair, unrelenting, unforgiving.

"Aunt Sue! Stop!" I scream, yanking at my strands, but only causing myself more pain.

"It's time to go, Isabella!"

I grab onto the wall, the rug, the table, the chair, anything I can that will help slow her process, but she pulls, hard and then harder until we're in the foyer and the chance of escape seems so minimal. When she thrusts open the door, my heart stops, screaming for you, pleading for your help. Can you hear me? As I'm being taken away from you, do my cries for rescue reach your ears?

"What the hell is going on in here?"


	51. Chapter 51

**Did you guess right?**

* * *

It takes me a moment to realize the deep resonated echo of the voice. To hear its surprise. Its fear. Its anger. To see those strong hands pry those spidery fingers from my unwilling strands. Fighting the darkness. Pushing her away. Watching her stumble down the porch stairs. Just a moment to know that you've come home. To stop her. To save me.

"Daddy?" I ask, peering up, grasping onto my tedious finger-holds on the doorframe, too afraid to let go.

"I'm here, sweet girl. Don't you worry." Your voice is so soothing, and yet I can still detect the undertones of that rage barely contained beneath it.

Aunt Sue stands at the bottom landing, her stockings a goner, her knees scraped, blood dripping from her leg, her hands, her chin. "You monster."

You stand tall, domineering, protecting your house, what's yours. "Why are you here, Sue?"

"You said she couldn't live here anymore. You told me to come and get her." It hits harder than I would have expected. I knew you had talked to her, and yet the reality of it all hurts so much.

"You know that changed. Don't tell me you've forgotten our conversation so quickly." You step toward her, and my heart just about jumps out of my chest and follows you. I grab at your pant leg instead, clutching you to me, rubbing my cheek against the rough material.

That so evil smirks crawls across her face, starting from one side and slowly making its way to the other. "Not tired of her yet, are you? Still have plans to defile her innocence?"

A door closing nearby startles me, but no one acknowledges the sound. It isn't until old Mrs. Webber hobbles her way across the lawn that anyone realizes where we are, where we're standing, who can see us, hear us.

"What's going on out here?" Mrs. Webber asks. You turn to look at her, but Aunt Sue's gaze does not waver from your face.

"Do your neighbors know? Do they know the sick shit you do to her? You're old enough to be her father. You practically are."

"You should leave, Sue." Even I wouldn't dare defy you, and yet she has no problem blocking your demand.

"When you're finished fucking her body, are you going to kill her too?"

You move to speak, your whole body shifts, your weight on your toes, your fists clenches, you muscles ready to spring forward, but before you can there's, "Now, now, Ma'am. What goes on in their bedroom is entirely up to them. You should do as the gentleman asks and leave."

Aunt Sue turns to look at Mrs. Webber, and for a second that desperation I saw those fleeting moments ago, appears on her face once again. "Do you know who you're living next to? He's a monster! Charlie died because of him!"

Your roar is so loud, so stupendous, it echoes off of the trees, the houses, down the street, I can hear the remnants from off in the distance. "I killed them? You were fucking Charlie! You broke your own sister's heart and slept with her husband!"

"I loved him!"

"And he didn't love you enough! That's why they were moving. To escape you! He was going to leave you!"

"Stop it!" Her hands cover her ears, her head shaking back and forth, her dark hair escaping from it's carefully intertwined bun to dance around her distraught face.

"You killed them, Sue! Not me! I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't. It was all your fault!"

"Stop it! I said stop it!" She screams, her eyes squeezed shut so tight as she does her best to block out the world, the accusations. That's why she doesn't see it. No one does. When I get to my feet, my fists raised, my anger red hot.

Her skin is so pliable, so soft, so easily bruised, so weak as she is so weak against my onslaught of punches, kicks. She falls to the ground, landing on her back, her arms shielding her face as her body cradles in on itself, doing its best to avoid, but failing horribly.

"How could you? She was your sister! That was my father! It's all your fault! I hate you!"

Her screams of pain have no affect on me. I feel like I could carry on forever. Kicking. Punching. Pulling her hair as she pulled mine. Seeing her skin scrape off against the cement, leaving a bloody trail in its wake toward the street of oncoming traffic.

She should have been the one who died. Who destroyed my family. Who brought me to you.


	52. Chapter 52

**Sorry for the absence. You'll be happy to know I suffered for it. Same reason as last time. Free alcohol just about kills me.**

* * *

"Isabella!" She's kicking. Tumbling. Pulling against my grip. But I'm determined and the street is so near.

"Isabella! Stop!" Your hands are strong on me, bruising the already bruised flesh. "What are you doing? Stop!"

Your gorgeous greens are so angry, so terrified, so worried, swimming with all these emotions. They make me loosen my grip, dropping the home wrecker, clutching onto your tense, tense arms. "Daddy?"

You shush me, bringing me into your bubble, whispering against my hair. "It's okay, sweet girl. I've got you. She can't hurt you anymore."

I sob, these huge intakes of breath, trying to catch a lungful of air. "It's her fault. They were out that day because of the move, and we were moving because of her! She basically killed them!"

"It'll be okay. I'm sorry we didn't tell you." Your kisses do little to calm my swirling thoughts.

"Mom! Oh god, Mom! How was she? Tell me! Was she okay?"

You shake your head. It's so small and so short, I almost don't see it. "She was coping. She thought the move would help. She wanted to save her family."

I peek from behind your arms, and there she is, being helped up from the ground by Mrs. Webber, crying as if her heart has been broken. "Don't, Bella! Don't look at me like that!"

"How can you stand there? Blaming other people? Your selfishness killed my family!"

She steps closer, her fists clenched, held back by Mrs. Webber's frail hand. "My selfishness?" Her scary darks glance quickly at you and I want to slap her for it. "Take a good look at who you're living with."

"I think it's time for you to go," Mrs. Webber says, showing her strength in her weathered fingers.

Aunt Sue shrugs them off, futilely brushing her mangled outfit back into place. "Fine. I'm going." She pauses, giving me a hard look. "I'm not coming back."

"Good riddance."

You pull me in deeper, and the only confirmation I have that she's gone, out of our lives for good, is the squeal of tires she leaves behind and your soft reassurances. "It's ok, sweet girl. She's gone. She won't bother us ever again. I'll make sure of it."

"Is she all right?" Mrs. Webber asks. Her voice sounds so far away as if she not only crossed back into her own lawn but fifty lawns over as well.

"She will be. She's strong," you say, leading us back to the house. "I'm sorry about all of this, Mrs. Webber."

Her worried voice cuts you off. "Don't worry about it, dear. You just take care of that little girl."

Your body is warm when you pick me, cradling me close as if I weigh nothing, as if there's nothing in this world that could stop you. "I will."


	53. Chapter 53

**Two for all of you. **

* * *

The destruction of Aunt Sue greets us once you step into the house. I hear your tiny intake of breath as you survey the damage. It's too much to bear as I slip out of your arms, dropping to my knees, picking at the scattered porcelain and broken gold across the floor.

"I'm so sorry, Daddy," I say, rubbing my dry cheeks. "She had keys. I didn't let her in. I wasn't going to."

You grab at my shoulders, trying to pull me up, but I dodge your fingers, pushing the shards into a small pile. "I'll clean this up. Don't worry."

This time you kneel, leaning in so close, until I'm forced to look into your gorgeous greens. They stare at me, forcing my attention, not letting me go. "You don't worry about it. This isn't your fault, sweet girl."

I wish…I just wish the tears would come. I need to feel something, but it's like I'm feeling everything, and I don't know how to let it go. To release it all. "Oh, Daddy! I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do! Please!"

You bring me in close, kissing my hair, my forehead, each eye, each cheek. "I'm so sorry you found out this way. We'll get through this together."

"How could he do that to her? How could Dad cheat on Mom? Why would Aunt Sue hurt her own sister like that? I don't understand anything!"

You're quiet as you think over your answer, leaning against the wall, holding me between your legs, petting my hair, calming my nerves just a tiny bit. "Your mom and dad had their problems, and unfortunately, Sue was there to pick up the pieces in all the wrong ways."

"How did I miss it? They never even fought. Not that I saw anyway."

"They each had their own gateways. Your dad drank. You mom worked. When the affair started, I'd actually never seen your dad happier."

"What?" My voice sounds so strangled, so sad. You kiss it all away.

"But he loved you more, sweet girl. He wanted to work on his family, so he left for you. Sue knows that."

"I hate her." And these monstrous feelings coursing through my body. I've never seen so much red before. So much anger. "I wish it was her that died."

"One day…" you say, pulling me in tighter until I can feel nothing but you. Your strong arms. Your hard body. Your care. Your love. "One day she'll get what she deserves."

You take me away from the destruction, tucking my head in so that it's no longer in my sight and all I can see and hear and feel is your skin, your sweet smelling flesh, your heartbeat against my ear. So comforting. So hush-hush.

The hallway is dark, but you know exactly where you're going. My room. With the white walls and nothing but a bed. So soft and downy and cool against our naked flesh. Bouncing just a little when our bodies collide with it. Your kisses and touches and sweet words make me sigh and then moan until my muscles are jelly and darkness overtakes.

"Sleep now. Tomorrow everything will be better."


	54. Chapter 54

**Can you see the end?**

* * *

Your kindness shows no bounds when you leave me in the early morning with a sweet kiss to the lips and a whispered, "Sleep."

I don't fight you, my eyes already closing upon your request. So tired. Everything aches. My head where she pulled my hair so violently. My arms are so weary of fighting. My legs that just can't hold me up anymore. My heart that hurts so much from loving you. This love…it will be the death of me, but I can't live without it.

Without you.

It must be nearing noon when I finally crawl out of the sleepy warmth we'd created together. It's almost bittersweet to leave behind the sweat and tears of yesterday on the sheets, and when I step through the door, I know that so much has changed. It's like when the sun rose this morning, it was telling us everything was going to be different.

You've picked up the broken pieces of her hate, swept it all away until the halls were clean, leaving behind only the memory. Of her words. Of her accusations. Of those terrifying darks eyes, so judging, so much loathing. You come out of your bedroom when you hear me stumbling around, your gorgeous greens so worried.

"Daddy?" I call to you with outstretched arms.

You pull me in tight, wrapping those protective limbs around my small frame, inhaling as if you haven't seen me in forever. "Are you okay, sweet girl?"

"Yeah…just tired. Still so tired."

I feel your head nod as you rock us back and forth, shifting your weight from one set of toes to the other. "We'll get through this together. We always will."

I believe you. I have no reason not to. "I know."

You arms slowly unfold, pushing me away, gentle on my unwilling flesh. "Go. There's food in the kitchen. I'll be there in a second."

I shuffle toward the kitchen, the wood smooth against my feet. I feel almost like a figure skater, gliding along so effortlessly. So calm. So happy. You do this to me. You light up my world and make even the smallest blemish disappear. I know I can be happy. For the rest of my life. Here with you. I was right. When that sun rose, breaking the dawn of a new day, it was pointing toward bigger, better, brighter things for you and me.

The sun warms my face, chasing away the chill of last night, sending its beam of happiness to light up even the darkest of corners in this house. And that's when I see it. Sparkling gold in the corner of my eye. Missed by your cleansing hands. Almost hidden behind the leg of the foyer table, only revealed by the joyous afternoon glow.

Broken chains, one and then two and then three, litter the small area, leading up to a coil of fire gleaming against the harsh beam of light. It's wrapped so tediously around the leg as it was wrapped so sharply against my toes for those few fleeting moments last night that it takes me a while to untangle it. To bring it closer.

The gold chain, even broken as it is, strikes that familiarity chord so deep within me. I know this. I know who it belongs to. And suddenly, that shining sun that was bringing me so much hope, darkens, becoming the evil, becoming the doubter.

Your footsteps echo so harshly in the hallway that I can hear the frantic, the worry. "What's that you've got there, Isabella?"


	55. Chapter 55

**Just breathe.**

* * *

"Isabella?" The edges of the broken metal cut at my fingers as I push the jagged edges together, trying to mend what she has destroyed. Your shadow looms over me as you peek over my shoulder. "What is it you got there?"

I ignore your words, panic settling in as the chain ends fall away from each other. Ignoring the reality as it finally sets in. "Where did you get that?" you ask, shock coloring your voice as you reach, outstretched fingers, grabbing.

I jerk away, scooting on my knees until I can pop up to my feet at a safe distance away from you. "Why do you have this?"

"It's nothing," you say, reaching out, palm up, face expectant. "Give it to me."

I clutch the chain close to my heart as if safeguarding all the secrets it holds. "It's not nothing. I know whose this is. Why do you have it?"

You stalk closer, one tiny step and then another. I flee back into the living room with you close on my toes. "Some things daddies do, little girls don't need to know about."

"Tell me!" I cry, pushing my voice forward, through my body and out my mouth. "Jasper gave this to her. Because he loves her. Why do you have this?"

"Isabella." Your voice is so commanding, so deep and dark as you pursue me. "Don't over think. Just give it to me."

I slap at your outstretched fingers, feeling the sting on my own, crying, yelling, feeling my heart break. "Are you fucking her too? Is she your little girl like me?"

"Stop this!" you yell, your voice echoing against the walls until my eardrums are ringing, matching the wails coming out of mouth.

"You told me I was special. You said you loved me." I escape your arms, running around the couch, putting the barrier between us. "Who else are you fucking?"

"I said stop, Isabella!" You jump the barrier, your both so agile, so at ease, holding my arms within your grasp. The cinch of your grip so hard, so difficult to escape. I'm yours. "There is no one else."

I hold the heavy chain up, the gold coiling in between my fingers, burning, scathing. "Why do you have this then?"

"She is nothing." You shake me, my body rattling as your words pierce my ears, my heart. "She is no more."

I shake my head, willing the pain to go away, willing the hurt to stop, willing the happiness to come back. "Alice was here. In your bedroom. That's the only explanation."

You shake me again, my head forced back and forth, my neck snapping painfully. Your gorgeous greens catch my eyes, so dark, so determined, so forceful as you demand my attention.

"You're not listening. She is no more. No more."


	56. Chapter 56

**You all have dark minds...fun fun.**

* * *

I can feel you. Your gorgeous greens. Watching me as I move, as I sit, as I stare at nothing. You're so close, adjusting your stance as I adjust mine. Waiting for something. I'm not sure what that is. I'm not sure of anything anymore.

"Rose called earlier." I hear myself say, but it's not what I'm thinking. It's not what I need to know. Alice is no more? What does that mean?

You nod your head, your breaths matching the steady beats of raindrops hitting the roof. Inhale. Exhale. One. Two. Three. Four. "What did you talk about?"

Was it a one-time thing? Did you get kinky with the bitch before dumping her, breaking her heart like you're breaking mine now? "The usual…she wanted to know if I could hang out later."

Your gorgeous greens are sharp as you jerk your head toward me. "Isabella…"

Are there others? Do I not give you what you want? Are you left so needy that you have to seek it out in other girls? "I told her I'd talk with you."

Your face is grim, your plump lips set into a thin line. No more…meaning she no longer occupies your bed. She no longer graces your day with her presence. Right? What else could it mean?

"I don't know about this."

"So what? You can fuck other girls but I can't hang out with my friends."

You slam your hands down on the coffee table so hard I'm afraid it's going to break. The wood creaks under the pressure, whining with the strain, begging like I'm begging. Stop the misery or just end it already. Take it all away. Is life better shared with you and others or all by myself?

"How many times do I have to say this, Isabella? There is nothing between Alice and I!"

"So it was just a one night stand. You slept with her, punished her, while I cried down the hall. Is that how it went down?"

You move so fast, so abruptly that I can't help it when I dart away, fearing the hand you've raised, putting distance between us, opening the crack in my heart even more. Is this the end of us? Has she did what she promised? Is this how I will suffer? Parting from you. Watching you leave my life. Being alone.

You pause, lowering your palm until it's a clenched fist by your side. "I would never hurt you."

"You already are! Don't you know? It hurts to share you. I want you all to myself! You're mine!"

"The only person I've fucked since Jessica is you! I waited for you! What will it take for you to believe me?"

"Then why did you have Alice's chain? What do you mean she is no more?" Your gorgeous greens are so sad, so desperate, so much yearning, pleading with me. "Tell me, Daddy!"

"Isabella…Alice is—"

I curse the phone and its shrill ring. We both stare at it as if we can't really believe its interruption. When the second bell breaks through my frozen barrier I move toward it, arm stretched out.

"Stop," you say, taking a small step forward. "Don't answer that."

I shake my head, glaring at your demand. "It's probably Rose."

My fingers are wrapped around the handset when you growl your frustration. "I said don't!"

"Hello?"

Heavy breaths greet me. And then a sob. A sniffle. "Bella?"

That's not Rose.


	57. Chapter 57

**Playing on Twitter is fun. Join Sharky, Ali-cat, and me. **

* * *

I pause, swinging my eyes up to you and then down, to the side, anywhere but your impatient gorgeous greens, waiting, reaching, so very angry as I ignore you.

"Bella?" he says, a whisper in the receiver.

"Who is it, Isabella?"

"Bella? Can we talk?" he sounds so sad, so desperate as if he's clinging on to that one last hope, that one last chance.

"I asked who it is. Tell me now!" Your voice booms in the living room like the thunder does outside, rattling the roofs, echoing until I'm not sure which is the thunder and which is you.

"Nobody."

"Bella, please. I need to see you. I don't know what to do. I can't eat. I can't sleep. You won't talk to me. Alice has disappeared. I'm so alone."

"Isabella!"

I glare at the floor. Who do I answer? Who do I acknowledge? "What? Now that there's not a warm body next to you to fuck, you're lost in life?"

You shout, jumping the small distance, hands so grabby. I avoid you, running around the couch, watching as you hunt me down.

"No! Things are just so frantic around here. No one knows. I'm being blamed. And I miss you so much. Please, Bella. I need you."

"Jasper…"

"I love you…"

The phone is ripped from my hands as you push me onto the couch, ignoring my flailing limbs, keeping me seated, out of reach of the boy I used to love.

"Who is this?" you ask. You sound so dark, so feral as if you'll rip his throat out through the phone. "I thought I told you never to call here again!" You don't wait for his answer, throwing the phone over your shoulder, uncaring when you hear it shatter.

Your gorgeous greens glare at me as your hands hold me to the cushions, your fingers punishing against my skin. "Calm down," I whisper.

"Calm down? You want me to calm down?! Why is that boy calling this house?"

"I don't know," I say, watching you rip, pull, shove until the cool leather touches my skin.

Your smile is so sinister as you speak, matching your glare as you bend, spread, take my body. "I can tell you why, Isabella. That boy wants you. He wants to fuck you. He wants to love you."

You enter me so hard, so harsh against so tender flesh. I cling at your shoulders, digging my nails in as you pound your body in and out of mine. "I don't want him."

Your whisper is wet against my ear, brassy, hoarse. "Good because you're mine. You're fucking mine!"

You have never gotten it so incorrectly before. You're usually right, but not this time. Not about this. You don't expect it. When I push. When I shove. When I crawl so that you are between my legs, trembling beneath me.

"You're wrong!" I shout at your surprised face, at your gorgeous greens assessing, wondering, growing darker by the second.

"Isabella—"

"No! You're wrong! I'm not yours!" You are so deep this way, so impossibly long, so thick that it's almost painful, but it feels amazing. Like I can never get enough of it. Of you. Of your dick stabbing me so good. "You're mine!"

You grunt and groan louder and then even louder when I go faster, harder, slamming down until there's nothing left of your desire exposed to the cool, muggy air.

"Isabella…sweet girl…"

I scream at the ceiling, feeling the ends of my hair tickle the tops of your thighs, bouncing up and then down. The couch moves with our movement, scarring the wood floor as your fingers press on my hips, indenting the flesh until it's red, sore.

"You're mine! Say it, Daddy!" My face is so close to yours now, so gruesome in my pleasure. So freeing. So powerful.

"Isabella…"

"Say it!"

"I'm yours!"

My entire body explodes, starting at the ends of my toes, working its way up, and letting itself out through my mouth, crying with satisfaction as I tremble back together, releasing my muscles from the tense I forced them into. You pull me in closer, your hands brushing against my sweat, spreading the wetness on my back, on my neck, down my thighs.

"Isabella…"

I howl into your neck, rubbing sweaty cheeks against your skin. "I love you so much, Daddy!"

You sigh. A simple sign of your happiness. "I love you too, sweet girl."


	58. Chapter 58

**There's a bet going on about how things will end. Bella offs Edward. Alice conquers Bella. Someone does a murder-suicide dealio. Tell me your theory (quickly! we're almost to the end), and maybe I'll announce the winners at the end *wink wink***

* * *

It's hard to catch my breath as I lay my naked body against yours. The emotions are too stifling. Too surrounding. Like there's nothing left for me to do but feel so much. Too much. You try to sooth me with your hands so gentle, your lips whispering sweet nothings. It's too hard, but I hope it's not too late.

"It'll be all right, Isabella," you say against my cheek, against my closed eyes. "You just wait. I'll show you."

I shake my head, anchoring against your shoulder. "Daddy…"

"No." You squeeze me so tight, your arms wrapped around my shoulders, crossing at along my spine until I can feel nothing but you. "Don't talk like that."

"But—"

"No, Isabella!" you scream as I feel your tears fall onto my naked flesh. "We will fix this. We're not over. We'll never be over."

Your gorgeous greens are so beautiful in their sadness, your tears making the color glow even brighter despite the anguish. I don't have the heart to disagree. I don't really know anyway. I don't anything. I don't even know who I am anymore.

You still hold me so tight when you bring yourself to your feet, your arms cradling me like a baby, loving me, protecting me. Smoothly guiding me across the floor and down the hall and into the bathroom where the cool tub makes my skin break out in goose bumps before being pacified by the warm water slowly engulfing.

Your washing is so tender, so compassionate as you clean the aftermath of our loving from my body until only your indented fingerprints on my hips remain, and then your lifting, standing me on my feet, brushing the towel so gently down before taking me to my bedroom.

You dress me in white cotton, so smooth, so ruffled, so loose that it almost feels like I'm encompassed inside of a cloud, floating in the sky, whisking through the breeze. Your fingers against my hair lull me into a sort of sleepy-awakeness that I hardly even notice when you lay me in bed and tuck the blankets around my body, up to my chin.

But your lips, so plump and wet and affectionate, doesn't escape my attention when they lay a little too long against my forehead, my cheek, my mouth. They aren't unwelcome though, and I whimper when you pull away.

You shush me. "Sleep now, sweet girl. In the morning, everything will be better."

My eyes close as if you've put me under a spell. Darkness claims my mind and it isn't until the streak of lightning flashing through the sky, illuminating my room, and the following crash of thunder, reverberating against the walls do I finally awake. Everything is once again clouded in night so much so that I can hardly see two inches in front of me.

It's now that I'm wide awake that I hear the rain on the roof, so much harder than it was earlier. So cruel and savage. Ruthlessly beating the shingles that I'm surprised it hasn't all cracked, fallen through, crushing me with its weight. The stormy weather shakes up my insides until I feel just as turbulent. My heart—beat, beat, beat—so severe against my ribcage that it feels as if my bones are cracking and my lungs have stopped working and nothing is right. Nothing.

The blanket lands in a tangled mess on the floor as I scurry for the door, grabbing the knob, pulling, pushing, twisting, wanting free of the darkness and it's stifling gloom. It doesn't. I almost yank my arms off with the force. I'm trapped.

"Daddy?" I whisper against the wood, knocking gently and then harder, until my fist is banging so hard that I'm afraid I've broken skin, leaving bloody prints across all the white. "Daddy!"

I almost miss it, but I barely hear it, your shush on your side of the wood. "Stop, Isabella."

"Daddy!" Knocking thuds, crashing thunder, lightning irradiating the vague, showing the red, dripping drip, drip, drip. "Let me out!"

"I'm sorry, Isabella," you whisper and if it weren't for my straining ears, I'd have not heard you at all.

"Please, Daddy! I'm sorry!" Panic fills my heart as the speed increases more than what it had already accelerated to.

"I have to do this." You sound so tormented, so sinister, pleading with your voice. Though I'm not sure what you're begging for.

"I'm scared. Please let me out!"

"Go back to bed, Isabella. In the morning, everything will be better."

* * *

**New story posted: Kiss Lots of Boys. Probably all flash fiction submissions. Just wanted to share. **


	59. Chapter 59

**I'm actually getting a bit nervous...**

* * *

Booming. Cracking. Destroying. With how hard I'm striking the door to the tempo of the thunder and lighting and the furious storm outside, I'm surprised the wood hasn't fractured, hasn't given in under the pressure, released me form my confines, from my prison.

"Daddy!" I yell, hoping you can hear through the dense wood, but I know. Your footsteps, though barely audible, echoed down the hall moments ago. You're not there. You're not listening, but that doesn't stop me from trying. "Please, Daddy! Let me out!"

The darkness encloses in on me, stuffing my lungs with worry, with terror until I stagger back, panting, fighting for air, fighting for life. The door is cool against my cheek, smearing red across my skin, creating a bloody path down as I fall to my knees.

"Daddy…" My throat is so sore, so raw that it hurts to even whisper, to even think about talking, calling, screaming your name. Where have you gone?

"Please…" I reach up, the doorknob wiggling its restraint, adhering to the lock. Why have you trapped me in this room? This place where I've felt most safe? Where we've loved. Where we've confessed.

"Let me out…" Besides the torrent of rain outside beating the roof, the house is silent. Empty. Alone. I'm so alone. So scared. So desperate for even just a little bit of your reassurance. Please, Daddy, please, come back to me.

The room lights up as the murky sky shoots fire through the crying clouds. The shadows dissolve before coming back with a vengeance. Haunting the corners. Pilfering the edges. Surrounding. Confining. Circling in.

Voices of the dead. Of the living, Of the hated. Of the loved. Through my mind. My heart. My soul. Tearing it all to pieces, shattering what makes me, me, until there's nothing left.

"I'm so sorry…" He wasn;t. Awkward. Forced. Hating how he was the one chosen to deliver the news.

"It was hard for me too…" So thoughtless. So wrapped up in his own fucking life. Never thinking of me. Only of himself.

"It was the best thing that happened to me…" The worst kind of person, the worst kind of friend. The betrayer of the betrayed. Lower than the lowest.

"We're all just so worried about you…" Lies. False words and pretend worry. Nothing outside of her own happy world. Thinking she's helping. Proving she's wrong.

"In love with a murderer…" Wouldn't she know? The only person she truly loves is herself. Her selfishness stops her from giving her black heart away.

"Let's go home." This place. This room. This house. This is ours. Lived in. Loved in. Protected at all costs. From you. From me. From everyone.

My screaming matches the rain, matches the thunder, the lightning, the anger and torment, the misery and despair boiling inside of me, steaming through my lungs, my mouth, so loud and harsh to the point where I can't hear anything but the insane. The wicked. The determined.

You and me? We're forever.


	60. Chapter 60

**Now you know...**

* * *

The room glows with the flashes of light outside, casting a path across the floor, straight to my salvation, my escape. The glass is littered with drops of water and soon fog when I press my face to it, trying to see into the night. Nothing is discernable through the steady downpour. Determination.

The swelling wood is hard to push against its damp surface, stuttering up the frame. Creak. Stop. Crash. Stop. Vibrate. Stop. Water pounces off of the sill onto my hands, my arms, my face, as I put all of my energy, my strength, into lifting the window, until finally. It comes to a shuddering halt at its extended height. Preserve.

Without that barrier between the outside and in, the wind has no qualms of blowing the downpour into the room. I haven't even left the confines of my prison, my sanctuary, and yet I'm already soaked. The baby doll nightie clinging to my skin, exposing what shouldn't be exposed. Fortifying.

But that won't stop me. I lift one leg and then two, swinging them over the sill until I'm sitting atop of the wet wood, the water seeping between my legs, freezing parts that don't like the unbearable cold. Needing to fight, to protect. "Daddy…"

That won't stop me. I know the drop down to the ground below isn't all that far, but in the dark, it seems endless. Like a bottomless pit. Like throwing myself over the edge will only end in doom. Like only horrible can come out of what I consider good. Keeping safe of what I love most. "I'm coming…"

Won't stop me. I jump, pushing myself from the ledge with my hands, launching my body away from the house, falling, falling, falling, down, down, down into untold darkness. Feeling earth. Coming to a stop. This is ours. Our home. Our love. Our refuge. "Wait for me…"

Stop me. The rain has turned the soil into mud, getting shit all between my toes. Now I know how Aunt Sue felt that day. I sink into the depths, losing my balance, falling once again. Now there's shit on my arms, my face, staining my white cloud. No one can push us from here. Make us leave. Separate our together. "Protect at all costs…"

Me. Relentless from above. Beating. Striking. Battering until I'm swimming in a pool of brown soup, chunky and smooth, sliding between every crevice, orifice, invading. Mixing the soil until it swirls and moves and uncovers and…right there. "What…"

My eyes have hardly adjusted to the night, strained by the constant lightning in the sky, but I still don't miss it. So white against the black, the evil. Pale in comparison to the deep, rich tones of the earth. Innocent against obsession, possession, domination. "Is that…"

Pinky. Attached to a hand. Attached to an arm. Slathered in mud. Being exhumed in the rain. Lifeless. Soulless. Slain. Wide hateful grays staring at nothing, frozen in their fear, stuck in death. She's here but she's gone.

"Good."


	61. Chapter 61

**Do you know the actual ending of the lullaby_ Hush Little Baby_?**

* * *

The mud slithers in tiny landslides with the downpour of rain, covering Alice's corpse, hiding those unseeing hateful grays, obscured by the damp earth. I slather the goo together, over her body, making sure that not even her tiny toe is peeking out.

She'll make good fertilizer for the poppies we'll plant this spring. They'll be beautiful, and finally something good will come out of her evil. Blood red. A garden full of them. A marker for where she lies. A symbol of love. Of defense. Of eternal rest.

You did this. I know you did. You killed her to protect us. Protect our home. Protect what we have. No one can destroy what we hold so dear. Each other. Together forever. This place. With so many memories. Years of them in fact. This is our home. This is where we belong.

The rain washes the mud from my skin when I stand, leaving only my baby doll nightie streaked with brown. My hair is plastered against my face, tangled on my bare shoulders, cascading down my back, rivulets of water racing from the end, dripping from the garden, to the porch, through the backdoor, and on the wooden floor of the kitchen.

I leave behind the torrent outside, cherishing the quiet of the open space in this house. This house...where you held me as a child. Kissed my falls all better. Made me laugh with joy. Shiver in desire. Watched me grow into who I was before, into who I am now.

The lights are off with only the lamp in the living room spilling its luminescence into the surrounding areas. The rest of the rooms are dark. The walls echo with the silence, the abandonment. You're not here.

"Where did you go, Daddy?" I ask to no one. The lampshade answers with a dance of shadows when I hit it with my finger. "What to do? What to do?"

It startles me, and I scream just a tiny bit, my heart going into overdrive. The pounding on the door could wake even the dead. If that were true, we'd have to kill Alice all over again. Fun times.

I'm careful of the puddle following me, taking tiny steps across the floor, my nightie sticking against my thighs, hampering my movement. The knocking only gets louder, harder, rougher, and I'm sure more bloody prints are being left on our pristine walls. Bang. Bang. Bang.

The doorknob is cold against my fingertips as I lean forward to look through the peephole. Night and rain clouds my vision, so I whisper ever so quietly, "Who is it?"

"Bella! Bella! Are you home?"

The thunder and lightning heightens the panic, the desperation, the fear in their voice, making them pound harder, yell louder. It's all lost. In the boom-boom. Combining until one shout sounds just like the other. Person and sky become one.

"Bella! Please!"

"What to do? What to do?"

His shouts stop for just a short second, and I can practically see his ears straining, his eyes widening, his mouth opening, and then, "Babe! Babe, please! Let me in!"

This is it.


	62. Chapter 62

**Almost there.**

* * *

Bang. Bang. Bang.

He is pounding so hard. Thrusting against the wood. Ricocheting my body from the surface before smashing back down. Bounce. Crash. Bounce. Crash. Over and over until the pounding travels to my head. Pushing against my skull. Beating its tiny fists where it hurts most.

"Bella! Babe! Please! Let me in!" He sounds so desperate, so panicked. I laugh. "Please! He's coming!"

"He?" The deadbolt sticks against its metal confines as I jerk it open, the moist air doing nothing to help my predicament. There's only a sliver of space between wood and frame before he pushes it open.

"Oh my god!" My shoulders are grabbed and I'm pushed back, slipping on the puddles that have followed me to the door and then he's turning around, sliding the deadbolt back into place.

"Jasper?"

His arms pull me into a hug, his face buried in my wet hair as he pulls us into the living room. "Are you okay?" he asks, pulling back, sweeping those mellow blues up and down my drenched body.

That's when I see it, revealed by the single lamp, the blood across his cheek, the swelling in his lip, his eye, the already-dark bruises lining his neck. His t-shirt is ripped, starting at the collar and continuing across to his sleeve, barely hanging onto that one shoulder.

"Am I…are you okay?"

He shakes his head, that dirty blond hair clinging to the blood on his face, curling against the sticky redness. "Don't worry about me," he says in a panic, grabbing my wrists. "We have to go!"

"Wait…wait!" I yell when he starts pulling, pushing, leaving with me in tow. "What do you mean? Why?"

"He's crazy, Bella! He tried to kill me! We have to go!"

I pull against his hold. "Who are you talking about? I can't leave. This is my home."

He turns on me, grabbing my face until I have no choice but to look into the blue, recognizing the pain, the suffering, the dread. "It's not anymore! That man? Your godfather? He's fucking crazy!"

I try to disagree with my head but he doesn't let me, so I say, "Don't say that about him."

"He tried to kill me tonight, Bella!" he screams, spitting on my face in the process. "Just showed up at my house and tried to kill me!"

"Jasper…"

"Please, Bella. I can't leave you here." Those mellow blues, the same ones that I once dreamed about, fill with tears, sparkling against the so-vivid color until they spill over, washing down his cheeks. "Please, babe. I'm scared."

That's when I see. Feel it. Remember it. I did love him. At one point in my life, my heart was full of this boy. Though you always owned a tiny part of it, he had the majority just a few short months ago. And that love was beautiful. It was fun. It was daring. Carefree and spontaneous. We were so young. So unaffected by life.

"Oh, Jasper…" I whisper, and he must see it. He must see a spark of that old love in my eyes because he pulls me into his arms, running his palms down my back, soothing the frazzled right out of me. I wrap my arms around him.

"It's okay, babe," he says against my ear, so sticky hot, holding onto my tight as if he's transferring that fear in his body into mine and it's almost as if I can feel it. I do feel it. That terror. So strong. So powerful. "I'm here. I'll take you somewhere safe."

I sigh. "Oh, Jasper…"

"We have to go now though." He turns away again. That's when I feel it. As my hand slides against his circling back, it hits metal. Hard. Cold. Metal. Peeking from his waistline. And when he's faced away, starting toward the door, beckoning for me to follow him, that's when I see it.

Before he can retreat, I grab, reaching hands, outstretched fingers. "What's this?"

Of course, I know what it is. Anyone would, but it feels as if I need him to acknowledge it out loud. "A gun."

"Where did you get it?" It's heavy in my hands. Foreign.

"It's my dads. I grabbed it before coming here." He reaches for it but I back away, holding on tight. "We really have to go now, babe. I don't know where he is. He could be coming here."

I shake my head. "I—"

That's when we both hear it. The clicking of the lock before the creaking of the door swinging open…so…slowly…and then there you are. Standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the lightning outside with a backdrop of torrential rain.

You're home.


	63. Chapter 63

**Stuck in my head: Bang bang. My baby shot me down.**

* * *

The puddles on the floor grow even bigger as you step into the house, slamming the door so hard behind you that the walls shake as if lightning has struck it, an electrical buzz flowing through the wood, the water collecting at our feet, up our legs until our hearts start on overdrive.

Your gorgeous greens are so dark, so angry and turbulent as if you've embodied the storm outside in their depths. I jump when you speak. You have no need to yell. The silence that has fallen over the room is so tense with simmering rage that it sparks to life at even just the quietest of whispers from you.

"Why aren't you in your room, Isabella," you say, stepping into the lamp's scarce light.

The water pushing against my feet ripples with my tremors as you direct that furious gaze at me. "I was scared, Daddy. You locked me in there. I just wanted out."

You take a small step forward. "You should have stayed in there, you naughty girl."

Jasper's head whips in my direction so fast I have no time to react, but you do. You rush him with a battle cry, slamming into his body before he can reach me, both of you falling to the ground in a flurry of wet limbs and raining water droplets. The lamp tips over when you hit the table it rests on, the shade flying off and rolling away, but the bulb is still in intact, its light free, pointed exactly at me, putting me in the spotlight.

"Run, Bella!" Jasper yells, fighting off your hands as they close around his neck.

His fists do nothing against you as you sneer into his face. "Isabella wouldn't do that. She wants to be Daddy's good little girl, doesn't she?"

Your gorgeous greens swing in my direction for just a second as your fingers tighten around his throat. Jasper's mellow blues roll back in his head as he fights for breath, small squeaks of despair leaving his lips as the battle dies within him.

The cocking of the gun, so soft in actuality, seems to echo and heighten in sound, begging for attention, hinting at trouble. Everyone hears it. Jasper's eyes swing in my direction, widening just a fraction. Your ear points at the sound, waiting for what I'll do next, freezing in your attack, but unrelenting in what you've already gained.

"Get off him, Daddy." I whisper the words but you're already attuned to them and that's when you look, turning your head just slightly, taking in my stance, the gun raised, pointed right at your heart.

"What are you doing, Isabella?"

"I said get off of him."

You fingers unglue themselves from his skin as you slowly back away, crawling onto your knees and then your feet, taking small steps backwards, your gorgeous greens never leaving the metal pointed at you and then the floor as if the weight of it, the responsibility is too much for me to bear.

"All right. I've done what you've asked. Now put the gun down."

Jasper scurries away, sliding his ass through the wetness, using the wall to pull himself back up, clutching at his neck. His voice is raspy when he speaks. "Shoot him, Bella!"

You put your hands up, palms forward as if trying to soothe me from afar. "Isabella, we can work through this. You and me? We're forever. Remember?"

The boy who once held my heart in the palm of his hand takes a step in my direction only to come to an abrupt stop when the gun makes a target out of his kneecaps. I slowly lower the heavy metal again.

"It's okay, Bella. Shoot him! He's dangerous!"

You cry, reaching your hands out to me as if beckoning me in for a hug, a cuddle, a kiss. "Don't listen to him, Isabella! Don't let him tear us apart! Don't you see? That's what they all tried to do. Jessica. Your parents. Alice. Aunt Sue. This boy! Don't let them win!"

It's hard to breathe. My lungs won't take in air and the black is enclosing in on my vision. "What to do? What to do?"

"Come on, Bella! Hurry!"

"We have to protect what we have. They can't push us out. This is our home. Defend it."

"Shoot him!"

"Daddy loves you. Don't you love Daddy still?"

My cheeks are wet. And it's not the rain. Salt water falls from my eyes. Filling up the cavity before spilling forward. Huge droplets washing down my face, dripping from my chin, reminding me that, yes, I'm still human. I look into your gorgeous greens, filling with agony, misery, desperation.

"I love you, Daddy."

Bang. Bang. Bang.


	64. Chapter 64

**This is the end. Thank you to everyone who has stuck through and all the wonderful readers kind enough to leave a review! I appreciated and adored each and every one of them! I hope you enjoyed this little bit of my crazy imagination as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

* * *

Fingertips on my naked back, feeling each bump of my spine, make my skin ripple with goose bumps, pulling me from my slumber. The sheets lays across my waist from where they were thrown the night before, barely covering my body to the cool morning air.

"You were yelling." A whisper so sweet against the tears on my cheeks.

"I had a dream."

_You fall to your knees, clutching at your heart. Your gorgeous greens so wide as they watch the blood run onto the floor, collecting in puddles, diluting the water already there._

"About what?"

"That night."

"So a nightmare."

_The scream you let loose is filled with so much anguish, so much terror, so much pain as you let the blood run through your fingertips, collecting around your nails, coloring the lines in your hands._

"I'll make you feel better."

I laugh, sneaking a peek over my shoulder. "I'm sure you will."

I'm pulled to my knees, my back arched, my shoulders, cheek, hands, support my weight in the front. And then there's that desire, so hard and long and sweetly familiar, pushing inside of me, slow and then fast until flesh hits flesh and I have to stop myself from falling over with a hand on the headboard.

___"What have you done?" _you ask. 

_"I'm sorry, Daddy," is my reply, watching as the blood runs in my direction. I don't have the energy to move, to avoid the red river of my actions, of my guilt, of my evil. "I had too."_

My moans echo the grunts from above me as the desire makes itself known over and over, harder and harder, pushing, thrusting against sensitive and willing flesh, begging for more. Always for more.

"Does that feel good?"

"Yes! Please! I'm so close!"

_The gun is snatched from my hand. I let it go without a fight. I don't see where it goes. I don't care. Those eyes. Those colorful, vivid eyes are slowly losing their light, crying their sadness over the love lost, the life slowly leaking from their body, their soul slipping from this earth, heading straight to hell._

The slap of skin against skin is harder this time. More intense than it was before. The desire is so close for both of us. Right there. I can see it. I scream into the pillow, biting the soft, wanting this torture to end, to fly into the clouds. The fingers gripping my hips, my breasts, my shoulders, my neck, tell me the same.

_"Why, Isabella?" Your voice fades off at the end as your dimming gorgeous greens search my eyes, looking for an answer, hoping for the best._

_"Protect. Defend. Secure. This is our home. No one can change that."_

I'm flying. Falling into the abyss. Spreading my wings and taking flight in the glorious that you give me. Only you do this to me. Only you make me feel this way. Only you can bring me to the heights of pleasure and come crashing down in waves of feel-good desire. Only you.

_"Are you okay?" you ask me. And I shouldn't have been. I should have been anything but okay, staring down as his heart finally stops beating, his mellow blues closing, his body sinking against the bloodied wood._

_Jasper is dead and I'm smiling, a relieved, happy laugh following soon after. "Of course I am."_

_You smile back, your gorgeous greens dancing along with mine. "You and me?"_

_"We're forever."_

I know when you come. Your fingers grip me so hard and your roar is so loud, as you scream your pleasure to the ceiling. Your hips pushing and pulling in no discernible rhythm as you take and take, releasing inside of me. You fill me so good. So full that I can feel you leaking down my thighs, pooling at my knees, soaking into the black silk.

"Yes! Daddy! Give it all to me!"

When our hearts have settled back to normal and the sweat has dried from our bodies, you kiss my shivering skin, slipping from the bed, pulling me with you. I whimper in protest.

"Get dressed, sweet girl," you say, running your hand over my still-flat tummy. "You have five minutes or we'll be late for the meeting."

I pull on the clothes you chose for me as quick as I can. I run down the hall and into the living room, glancing quickly at the TV you've turned on, fingering the two bullet holes in the wall you've yet to fix before turning into the kitchen.

"Let's go."

You tut your tongue. "Not before you've eaten something. You can't skip meals now, Isabella."

I roll my eyes, smiling slightly at the growl you send my way. "Of course, Daddy."

You place the fruit you've just diced in front of me before picking up your coffee mug and slipping into the living room, your eyes glued to the television. "Her remains were found at the bottom of Nightshade Ravine. Police suspect alcohol and careless driving played a role in her demise. Neighbors have attested to her erratic behavior since the death of her sister last winter."

The phone rings just as you've settled onto the couch. Your gorgeous greens give me the okay to answer, so I rush for the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hey, Belly-bee!"

"Rose. What are you doing?"

"Being bored. We should hang out today." Her voice cracks on the other end.

"I can't."

"Oh…maybe tomorrow? I'm just so lonely. Ever since Alice and Jasper ran away together."

I pause, smiling a bit to myself. They deserve each other. "What about Emmett?"

She's crying now. Loud sobs stab at my ears. "He broke up with me."

"Oh, Rose. I'm about to head out, but I'll ask and maybe I can come over tonight?"

She sniffles. "I would like that."

You tap your watch, so I say a quick goodbye and hang up. From a bowl on the foyer table, you grab your gold chain, pulling it over your head. I do the same with my silver one, making sure the flattened bullet lies between my breasts.

You place a wide brimmed hat on my head. "It'll be sunny and hot today," you say as explanation. I smile, picking up Dad's keychain, the four or so keys clanking against each other.

Your cell phone rings. "Hello, Mr. Black. Yes, sorry. We're running a little late. We'll be there in a few minutes."

I wait as you lock the door and then turn around, placing your arm around my shoulders, protecting me, loving me. You wave at Mrs. Webber, smiling as she comes over to our side of the yard.

"I love the poppies you've planted," she says with kind eyes. "That red is just so beautiful, and they've really seemed to flourish."

You laugh. "It must have been the fertilizer we used."

"Well, you'll just have to tell me your secret one day."

She waves goodbye as we drive away, her wrinkled hand barely visible in the rearview mirror. I sigh when you reach across, holding my fingers between yours, resting our hands on the center console.

"Are you ready, sweet girl?"

"Yes, Daddy."

* * *

**If you missed it, I've already posted a new short-chapter story: A Breath Away - What happened Then affects her Now. Bella rushes to save Edward from his destruction before she loses him forever.**


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